Circles
by The Creatress
Summary: COMPLETE! During her first year, Ginny did something, and it's been haunting her for the past six years. She has something of Voldemort's, something that Hermione has helped her hide, but what happens when Voldemort comes back to claim what is his?
1. The Battles

Disclaimer – I own nothing of the HP books or whatever associated, blada blada blada, you know the drill…

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Author's Note:

Creatress: My … second … TMRGW … haven't posted the first one yet…

Tom: For one of the lamest reasons, too…

Creatress: Was not lame. You, the reader, wouldn't have liked it.

Tom: Er, right. She typed out a 20-pg long first chapter, then isn't posting it because she promised a preview of the second chapter at the end, but ran straight into a writers' block.

Gin: I would've been pissed…

Tom: Oh, no, you wouldn't, I remember it's something traumatic happening to you.

Gin: Well… As long as you're the cause…

Tom: (smirks)

They start making out.

Creatress: Awww… But, seriously, save something for the actual fic… _Guys!_ (gets uncomfortable and leaves)

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Circles

Chapter 1

Hermione Granger groaned a little and slowly opened her eyes. When they were more than mere slits, she snapped them shut again. The whiteness of the hospital wing and the amount of sunlight pouring in through an open window to her left were much brighter than what she had been seeing for the past several weeks.

"Hermione?" a tentative voice asked, from somewhere to her right.

"Ginny?!" Hermione's eyes snapped open and she whipped around to see the young redhead lying on a bed beside her own.

"I'm sorry," Ginny whispered, her voice breaking. Her eyes were watering. She blinked, and her tears fell down the side of her face and onto her pillows. "I'm so sorry…"

"It's alright," Hermione said, quietly, quickly glancing around for signs of Madam Pomfrey. With a bit of effort, she got up and wrapped her arms around her friend, who hugged her back, still spurting apologies. "It wasn't your fault. Shh, someone might hear you. It's alright now."

Ginny quieted down, but kept sobbing and Hermione held her as she cried into her shoulder. Only the previous night, Ginny had been rescued from the Chamber of Secrets, and Hermione had woken up only hours later to find out what had happened.

"He hated you," Ginny suddenly choked out.

"What?"

"He hated you. He hated whenever I spoke to you, because he couldn't convince me that muggles were bad because you were around … and … your parents, and… and…"

"Okay… Okay," Hermione whispered, not knowing how to respond.

"And… and you were the only other person I talked to…" Ginny's voice trailed off and she started sobbing again. "Gods, I almost got you killed…"

"No, you didn't. You didn't."

Ginny sobbed, shaking all over. "I've done something horrible…"

"No, you haven't - "

"Yes... I have, I've done something terrible, and I'm so scared," Ginny gasped.

"You shouldn't be. Riddle's gone now – his diary was destroyed – " Hermione stopped when Ginny shook her head. "… Gin?"

"I did something else. Besides hurting you - "

"Gin, don't say that," Hermione interrupted, her voice firm. She pulled Ginny out of her hug and held her shoulders. "It wasn't you. It wasn't your fault. It was Voldemort - " Ginny gasped, and Hermione almost looked at her admonishingly. "It was not you," she said, instead. "Do you understand that?"

Staring at the floor, Ginny nodded.

"Now…" Hermione said, her voice growing gentle. "Was there something else?"

Ginny stared at the floor and gulped. Then, she nodded. "Mi, I'm scared… You'll never guess what I did. And it wasn't even him that time – I did it myself. He's the only one who knew…" She started crying again. "How could I have…?!" She buried her face in her hands.

Hermione, who was still holding Ginny's shoulders, grew a little scared. "Gin… What happened?"

Ginny looked up at her. "Promise me you won't tell anybody," she whispered, holding out her hand.

Hermione barely hesitated, before placing her hand in her friend's. _Such a muggle way of sealing a promise, _she mused. "I promise," she said.

"And you swear… You won't… React badly?" Ginny finished, weakly.

Hermione stared at her, so worried she was hardly breathing. But she couldn't say no to the desperate pleading in Ginny's eyes. "Yes," she said. "I promise."

Taking a deep breath, Ginny started her story. Something that happened only a short month ago… Something before the attacks, before she suspected Riddle of being dangerous… When she got to the part with the most … _evil_ … the most _sinful_ part, Ginny broke down crying again. She couldn't continue, but she didn't need to…

Hermione's eyes grew wide, but other than that, she didn't react. How could she? She just promised she wouldn't react badly, and how could one react positively… Hermione was now staring at the floor. She briefly wondered if the tile she was looking at was the same one Ginny had focused on five minutes ago.

"Mi…" Ginny whispered. "Mi, please say something…"

Hermione suddenly noticed that Ginny was clutching her hands as if she was holding on for dear life. "Obliviate…" she whispered, barely audibly.

"What?" Ginny whispered.

"Let me obliviate you," Hermione said, turning back to Ginny to look her in the eyes. "You can forget it. Move on with life. Nobody ever has to know…" Her voice trailed off when Ginny shook her head.

"He knows," Ginny whispered.

"He's dead," Hermione replied, readily. "Nobody else knows. Nobody else has to find out. I can deal with this myself. My parents would help me if I need it. You… Gin, please, let me obliviate you. Nobody else could ever find out…"

Ginny shook her head again. Something in the redhead's eyes made Hermione freeze with fear. "Gin," she whispered, her voice begging.

"Mi, I… " Ginny couldn't continue. She looked up at Hermione, trying to convey the message with her eyes.

Hermione seemed to have understood, but was trying to deny it. "Gin…" she whispered, pleadingly, now squeezing her friend's hands back. "This last month … Did you…?" Ginny looked up at her then, and the answer was clear in her eyes. The world seemed to freeze and shatter for a moment, as she grew dizzy with panic.

Hermione brought up her right hand to hold her head, her left one still wrapped around Ginny's.

"Mi… What am I going to do?" Ginny asked. Her voice was panicked, _tortured_.

Hermione was trying to think of spells, potions, something muggle, that could help in this situation, but her mind came up blank. Only one question came to mind… She suddenly found herself wondering how Riddle reacted to this… Hermione inwardly shook the question off. What was the point?! Riddle was only a damn memory. A damn memory, who was dead now… _A damn memory who managed to do a lot of damage_, she reasoned with herself. _How? Can a memory do that? Take someone over and make them kill?_

Hermione gulped. It doesn't matter… Riddle was gone now. Harry said so himself, after a meeting with Dumbledore. Riddle was gone. She turned to Ginny, not liking what she was about to do.

"You have to tell someone," she whispered.

"No!" Ginny quickly retorted.

"What else can you do? Wait until something happens?" Hermione asked, her own eyes watering at her friend's predicament. She shook her head. "It's too dangerous. Something could happen to you…"

Ginny started crying again. Hermione quickly blinked and wiped away her own tears before reaching out to touch Ginny's shoulder. "Madam Pomfrey – she'll keep it quiet." Ginny started shaking her head again. "Gin, see reason! What if she already knows?!"

Ginny shook her head. "No, she hasn't said anything. She doesn't know… How could she?"

Something occurred to Hermione. "Gin… let me see your arm," she said, looking around to make sure that they were alone.

Ginny shook her head. "The Dark Mark? No…" She laughed, dryly. "Gods, by now, I would wish that were it… I probably deserve one for this…" Hermione shook her head to show that she disagreed, and Ginny looked up at her, eyes begging. "Please, Mi, there must be _something_…"

"Okay," Hermione breathed. She held her head with both hands and tried to think. "It's only been a month… Maybe what you've been experiencing this past month was purely psychological." She ignored Ginny's questioning look – by now, she seemed to be talking to herself. "Maybe you thought something was wrong, and convinced yourself…" Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. "Alright. Alright," she breathed and looked up at Ginny. "Here's what we'll do. We'll give it a month's time, and during that time, we'll wait to see if anything proves something's wrong. While we wait, I'll do some research and see if there's a way… to… to… deal with this."

"Thank you," Ginny breathed, cupping Hermione's hand in both of hers.

Hermione nodded and pulled Ginny into a hug with her other arm.

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On August 2nd, Hermione showed up on the Weasleys' front doorstep, coat over her arm, suitcases around her, and a white tote bag slung on her shoulder, ready for her one week stay. In her tote bag, was another smaller, purple bag, which was carefully tucked away under the other stuff in the tote bag. In the purple bag was a vial, no bigger than an average medicine bottle, full of a black liquid.

Ginny opened the door and an unspoken question was answered by a silent response before Mrs. Weasley appeared behind her daughter and greetings were exchanged.

When the two girls were safely locked in Ginny's room, the first thing Ginny did was shake her head.

Hermione tried to offer a comforting smile. "It'll be okay," she said. "I've made something…" She reached into her tote bag, and dug around for the purple bag. She pulled the potion out of it, carefully and handed it to Ginny, who also took it gingerly.

The redhead looked at her friend with a deep and sincere gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered. "You've just saved my life…"

"Yes, if you take this properly and on time, your life is saved…" Hermione said, trying to make her tone light and joking. But a small voice inside of her asked, _At what price, Gin?_

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Six years later…

There was another earth-shattering crash and more students ran screaming. The teachers were rushing around, trying to collect their students and get them safely back into their common rooms. Aurors, who had been stationed all around the school, were running toward the south-eastern corner where the first noises had come from. Spells, hexes, counter hexes, curses, counter curses were flying everything. It was chaotic. Hogwarts was under attack.

In the turmoil, Ginny saw Harry, who had graduated the previous year but come back as an auror as part of security, running toward the southeastern corner and started rushing in the same direction.

"Harry!" she called.

Harry stopped and whipped around. "Gin, no! Go back!" he yelled.

"No!" she shot back.

Harry shook his head, silently begging her to leave, and knowing that he should try to get to the battle as soon as possible, turned back around. Ginny didn't honour Harry's silent request and kept following.

The crashes seemed to be spreading. The two heard several behind them, but ran ahead, knowing that Tonks, Shacklebolt, and the others would take care of it. Dumbledore and Snape had run to the southeastern corner, and had not come back because that was where Voldemort was, and therefore, that was where the most danger was. Knowing this, Ginny's stomach lurched and she felt a little sick.

Nearing the place of the first crashes, they heard voices. Dumbledore was yelling.

"… power, Tom, when will you understand that?!"

Harry and Ginny were just at the door.

"I understand it well, so unlike you."

Ginny stopped dead. That voice…

"And this misconception, I'm not quite so saddened to say, probably won't clear up for you before the day you die, will it, Dumbledore?"

"You bastard!" Harry suddenly yelled, bursting outside into the clear night.

"Potter/Harry!" She heard Snape and Dumbledore yell at once.

And then a crash. Ginny gasped, wondering what had happened.

"Potter, it's been too long…" Tom – no, Voldemort's voice was mocking.

This made Ginny move again. She burst through the doors and almost ran into Harry, who, though he was shaking, was still standing and looked alright. Dumbledore and Snape glanced at her for a second, before turning back to Voldemort, not wanting let him out of their sights.

"Just what I wanted…" Voldemort's voice turned Ginny's attention from Harry to himself.

Ginny looked at him and her breath caught. There was a sudden pain, sorrow and grief that washed over her as the events of her first year came rushing back to her. Also, a knot of fear was pounding in her chest and she stepped back a little. The only unmasked man, who was front and center among the masked Death Eaters, was none other than Tom Riddle. He looked like his was in his mid to late twenties, but she easily recognized the older form of the sixteen-year-old she had once loved. What sent her heart pounding was that his cold blue eyes were fixed on her.

Voldemort smirked. "Princess," he said, acknowledging her with a nod.

Ginny's heart raced and she almost didn't notice Harry glance at her, questioningly. Tom called her Princess… If Voldemort knew about the nickname, would he know about…?

"What do you want, Tom?" Dumbledore suddenly asked, sounding tired and old.

"Something of mine," Voldemort replied, calmly.

"What?" Dumbledore asked.

Voldemort smirked. "If I tell you, you would just let me have it?"

"If it will save the lives of the students," Dumbledore replied, readily.

Voldemort smiled, wryly and some of the Death Eaters behind him chuckled. "In that case, Dumbledore… She's about two feet away from you."

Dumbledore almost didn't understand what he was talking about, but turned to Ginny, who paled. She slowly shook her head, and took a few clumsy steps back.

"Right, then, three feet," Voldemort said, sarcastically. He eyed her for a second before turning back to Dumbledore. "Hand her over."

Dumbledore turned back to Voldemort. "No," he said, flatly.

"I'm afraid you have no choice," Voldemort said, calmly.

"I think I do," Dumbledore replied. "About a foot in front of you, there's a Kardrik Wall that runs all around this school. You will not be able to get in or get anything out that isn't _rightfully_ yours."

Voldemort didn't seem fazed by this new information. "Hm," he said, sarcastically. "Obviously, you hadn't been listening when I told you that I came here to get something of _mine_. Accio."

Ginny's screamed. Her feet were suddenly off the ground and she whipped through the air, past Harry and Snape, who looked startled, and past a panicked Dumbledore and right into Voldemort's arms.

"Ginny!" Harry yelled. He raised his wand but a "No, Harry!" from Dumbledore stopped him.

"But - " Harry started.

"You may hit her, you idiot, put it down!" Snape snapped.

Harry scowled, but lowered his wand a little.

Ginny was struggling, whimpering and trying not to scream, as she tried to get free of Voldemort's grip.

"Stop that, Princess, don't make me hurt you," Voldemort suddenly said.

Her eyes watering, Ginny reluctantly stopped struggling. "Please…" She whispered. "Please don't, please…" She didn't know exactly what she was pleading for, but what else could she do…

"Let her go, Tom," Dumbledore suddenly said, a warning in his voice.

"And why would I do that?" Voldemort asked.

"She's a human being – there is no possible way she could belong to you," Dumbledore said.

"Really… the Kardrik Wall seems to disagree."

Dumbledore eyed them, stricken, not knowing why this was happening and not knowing what he could do… As soon as an insider's spell crossed over the Kardrik Shield, it would be down and the student body's life would be at risk, but he couldn't just leave Ginny… Time, he needed _time_. "How?" he asked, trying to sound calm.

Voldemort raised an eye-brow. He turned to Ginny, who was still in his arms, looking up at him with a pleading expression. "You haven't told him, Princess? Funny, I would have thought you would have run crying to him immediately after you last saw me…"

Ginny shook her head, and a tear fell.

Voldemort studied her for a second, and Ginny suddenly felt him in her mind. Panic rising, she tried to close her mind off, but was unsuccessful. "Ah…" Voldemort said. "You told the mudblood… Well, no matter. Here's your chance. Tell him."

Ginny looked up at him, eyes begging. "Please…" she whimpered. "My lord, please, please don't make me…"

"Now, Ginevra," Voldemort hissed. He lowered his voice so that only she could hear. When he spoke, his breath brushed against her ear. "You will spend the next few days alone with me. Do you want me to be displeased with you?" Ginny cried harder, and, knowing that the threat was well delivered, Voldemort raised his voice again. "Tell him."

Ginny turned to face Dumbledore, who was looking back at her, kindly, concernedly. She sent him a silent message of apology with her eyes. She took a deep breath.

"I'm pregnant."

End of Chapter 1

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Creatress: DUN DUN DUN!!

Tom: Surprise, surprise…

Creatress: Yeah, you all probably guessed it, right, readers?

Gin: Gods, it was so in your face… You would do horribly as a mystery writer…

Creatress: No, no, things are still missing. They'll come up in the next chapter.

Gin: I bet they will.

Creatress: (shrugs and grins) I personally liked that chapter, and I know you two did, too, so ha.

Tom: I want to see the geezer's reaction.

Creatress: I know, I'm just itching to type it out… So, we'll stop talking after this final message: REVIEW!! REVIEW NOW, OR I'LL STICK VOLDERZ ON YOU!!


	2. The Sin and Regina V

Disclaimer – I own nothing of the HP books or whatever associated, blada blada blada, you know the drill…

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Author's Note:

Creatress: Ooo… I actually had a bit of trouble with this chapter, as much as I was excited to get it under way… What are you two snickering about?!

Tom: Nothing… It was a great chapter. I loved it.

Gin: I know…

Creatress:…You're laughing because…?

Tom: I told you, it's nothing…

Creatress: (eyes them warily) Okay, then… Warnings: Underage sex. Don't like, don't read, I've warned you. It can be a little … traumatic …

Gin:…How?

Creatress: Shut up, shut up… Go back to snickering…

Gin: K… (to Tom) They're going to freak!

Creatress: Who, the readers?

Tom and Gin: Yeah…

Creatress: At?

Gin: Our anagram!!

Creatress: …Oh, yeah, that thing!! It was so weird, I freaked out and I was the one who discovered it!! I mean, it wasn't in an other TMRGW before… Gods, readers, you're going to FREAK! Happy reading!!

luv

Creatress

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Chapter 2

Ginny's first year, May

"I shouldn't be so sad," twelve-year-old Ginny Weasley murmured. "I don't know why I am. You were right – I could never like somebody by just what I read about them in the papers… So, why am I sad?" At this point, she turned away from Tom Riddle and looked into the cauldron on the table. It was filled with a pearly liquid that had a hint of light blue to it.

"You're not sad, Princess," she heard him say, and she smiled, softly. For a second, she thought she had annoyed him with her question. "You're disappointed is all."

Ginny opened her mouth to ask why, but she suddenly felt dizzy and sunk down into one of the black couches. The world was spinning – she gripped the arm rest and shut her eyes, waiting for it to stop. A moment later, she felt Tom tilt her head up and put a goblet to her lips.

Ginny braced herself, knowing what was coming – the pearl white potion tasted worse than anything else she had ever had. It was bitter and putrid. It was worth it, though… For every goblet full, she was able to spare enough of her energy to make Tom physical and alive for two hours while giving her an "energy-substitute" to keep her conscious. Taking it was horrid, yes, but it would be gone in a moment, leaving not even an aftertaste.

Ginny almost gagged on the foul taste, and Tom placed his hand over her mouth and nose, forcing her to gulp it down. When she finally ran out of breath, and managed to swallow, he put the goblet down on the table beside the cauldron, and sat down beside her, taking her into his arms.

"It should get easier every time," Tom was muttering. He ran his fingers through her hair and felt her relax against his chest.

Ginny frowned, a little disheartened by his words, and just stared at the room for a second. It was a large sitting room that could only be entered through the Chamber of Secrets. As she remembered this, Ginny drew a little closer to him, straining to hear any sounds of the basilisk.

"You know he won't come unless he is called, Princess," Tom suddenly said.

Ginny looked up at him, surprised. "I know," she said, a little embarrassed. "Sometimes, I just… I don't know…"

"Don't you trust me?"

Ginny nodded, readily. She sat up on her knees, still on the couch, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Sorry," she murmured.

"Hm," was the answer, and Ginny felt a little worried, but then she felt him snake his arms around her waist and pull her down, so that she was sitting in his lap. "Now… What did you want to ask me before that interruption?"

Ginny leaned her head against his chest, feeling better because he didn't seem angry with her. "Why I'm disappointed."

"Because that's what happens, Princess," Tom said, not hesitating or pausing to think about his answer. It was something Ginny loved about him – he was so sure of everything he said and did. "You give something so much build-up, and find that it doesn't actually meet your expectations. It's like hearing about a place you're about to visit – stories, legends, how great it's going to be. But when you get there, you find out it's actually quite dull, of course, you'll feel disappointed."

"Oh…" Ginny murmured. "I was so surprised when I realized I didn't like him."

"Sometimes we feel things and we don't even realize it," Tom said. "It's those that are true… It's because you don't make the decision consciously. It's a gut instinct you follow." He paused for a second and tugged at a strand of her hair, grinning wickedly. "And what might it have been that you realized you felt that told you that you were no longer interested in the Boy Who Got Lucky?"

Ginny suddenly turned bright red, and turned away, letting the red of her face be hidden behind the red of her hair. She shrugged. "I don't know…" she stammered. "One morning, I just looked at him and realized I didn't like him anymore."

Tom chuckled softly. "Well, I believe it took you long enough. He's stupid, famous for nothing, and has a name so dull, even I can't make a proper anagram to insult him with… I suppose we'll have to stick with Potty…"

"Anagram, Tom?"

"When you take the letters in a word or a name and rearrange them to form a new word or name. We used to do it a lot in my time," Tom explained. "It was used to insult someone with, or just make a nickname."

"Oh?" Ginny looked up at him, smiling teasingly. "What was your nickname?"

Tom smirked down at her. "Guess," he said.

Ginny looked away and stared at a wall, scrunching her face up as she thought. "Tom Marvolo Riddle… Well, you already have Riddle, that's pretty impressive…" She didn't notice a dark look pass over Tom for a second. "Umm… Revolt… More… Idle… Idol… Doll… Lord…"

Tom smirked. "Take out 'I' and 'am,' and keep working with the rest of the letters. I'll let you know when you get it."

"Did you do this a lot, Tom?" She asked, turning back to him.

Tom nodded.

Ginny looked wistful for a second, and then she looked at him, earnestly. "I want one," she blurted and Tom laughed out loud. "Already working on it, Ginevra Molly Weasley. Sorry to say, so far I only have 'weasel.'"

Ginny pouted and pretended to hit him, but she smiled. "No weasels," she said, nevertheless.

"Yes, Princess, I figured," Tom responded, smiling slightly.

Ginny smiled, and leaned against him. "At least I don't get 'potty' out of mine."

Tom eyed her. "I hear resentment," he pointed out.

Ginny smiled, a little bitterly. "It's just all the time I wasted," she said. "Like daydreaming about him being my first kiss."

"You should be glad he wasn't," Tom said, suddenly. "You think a first kiss is supposed to be special, so make it. Have it with someone who actually means something to you and is little more than the poster boy for sheer luck." Ginny turned crimson again, and looked away. Tom smirked. "Is there someone you have in mind?"

Ginny shrugged, and immediately realized that was the wrong thing to do. She shook her head. "No, I meant no," she said quickly and then flushed deeper when she saw the amused expression on Tom's face just then. She turned away and screwed her eyes shut. She then felt Tom's fingers under her chin and her heart raced as he turned her to face him.

"Ginevra, look at me," she heard him say in a low voice and she slowly opened her eyes.

He was barely a few inches away from her and her heart pounded wildly as she froze under his gaze. Her eyes could not leave his and suddenly she found that all she could see were his eyes… She was lost, floating in a sea of that sky blue…

And then he kissed her.

It was soft, but firm, and as soon as she felt his lips on her own she felt herself go limp. And when he pulled away, she suddenly found herself in reality again and she blushed wildly, and tried to hide it by burying her face in his chest, like she was so used to doing…

Tom chuckled softly at her reaction, but wrapped his arms around her anyways.

"How did you find out?" came her muffled voice.

"Oh, a little snake told me," Tom answered, amusement clear in his voice.

"_Tom!_" She sounded indignant.

"It was you, Princess. You told me."

Ginny was quiet for a second. "Wha…?" she asked, sounding a little faint. "How?"

"Well…" Tom said, leaning back into the couch. He started running his fingers through her hair again. "A few weeks ago, you were sitting in history, _mindlessly_ doodling away in my diary. And I'll be honest with you, Princess, I wasn't paying much attention. After a while, one gets sick of seeing 'Ginevra Potter,' 'Ginny Potter,' 'GP,' and the like over and over again - " Ginny suddenly groaned indignantly to show she didn't like what he was talking about and wanted him to get to the point already. "And then, you started writing again, and something caught my eye… You wrote Ginevra… And finished it with 'Riddle.'" Ginny was silent and her face was still buried in his robes, but Tom could imagine the mortified look she'd have on her face. "And that was it for the rest of class… 'Ginevra Riddle,' 'Ginny Riddle,' 'GR,' 'Mrs. Riddle,' etc, etc… I can't say I got tired of it, though…"

Ginny groaned, and buried her face deeper into his robes. Tom could feel the heat radiating off her face and into his chest.

"I think it's called 'blank writing,'" Tom murmured, sounding absent-minded. "Just pick up a quill, keep your mind blank and move your hand. After a few mindless scratches, your subconscious will form words for you. Then, open your eyes and face what you really feel. Quite useful, actually."

Ginny suddenly looked up and glared at him, cheeks still quite red. "And you just let me go on with it?!" she demanded.

"Oh, Princess, believe me, I wrote to you many times that period," Tom said, looking at her seriously. "But that was how out of it you were – you never even saw me respond."

"Oh," Ginny mumbled, dropping her gaze to his Prefect badge. "So…umm… What do you think?"

Tom didn't answer for a second. Then he tapped the center of her lips with his index finger. "I believe I've been clear about what I think."

"Oh," Ginny said, again. Her face grew red again. "I liked it," she mumbled.

Tom smirked. "I'd like to do it again," he said.

Ginny smiled, head still bent. "Okay," she mumbled.

Tom shifted a little beneath her. "I'd like to go further," he added.

Ginny furrowed her eye-brows. "What?" she asked, confused.

Tom didn't answer right away. His right hand found her chin and he trailed his thumb from there, down her throat to the bottom of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. "I want to touch you," he said.

Ginny suddenly noticed that his voice had grown low and it made her a little uncomfortable. But she shook it off – why should she be? "Um," she mumbled. "Okay…" Her voice trailed off. "But, my mother said I shouldn't let boys… Um…"

Tom felt anger at the pit of his stomach, but managed to keep it down. "We'll just sit here," he told her. "And I'll kiss you, and I'll hold you. I'll touch you. But, if you feel uncomfortable, just say so and I'll stop."

Ginny glanced up at him. "You… You promise you won't be mad?" she asked, tentatively.

"I promise, Princess." Any other man would have been disappointed at making such a promise, and Riddle was a lot of things, a man of his word being one of them. But he was not disappointed because he knew… In a short while, she would not be able to bring herself to ask him to stop.

Ginny relaxed. Going a little red again, she nodded. "Okay," she whispered.

Tom smirked for a second and covered her mouth with his again. Ginny's breath caught as she felt him start to slowly massage her lips with his own. Her eyes fluttered shut and he closed his as well, both concentrating on the kiss. His kisses were breathtaking and powerful. Soft presses, with little licks and nips in between. There was a randomness to them – no pattern – but Ginny was soon kissing him back, instinct guiding her into gently pressing her lips against his when he kissed her and holding still when he licked or gently bit.

Keeping his left hand on the small of her back, he tilted her head up with his other hand and started kissing her again, this time gently probing her lips open with his tongue. He expected her to hesitate, but she didn't. She simply parted her lips and gasped when she felt a powerful spark when his tongue met her own. She moved closer to him, and wrapped her arms around his neck as their tongues entwined around each other and explored each other's mouths.

Ginny suddenly found she couldn't breathe, and almost seeming to sense this, Tom pulled away, but he didn't stop. He placed little butterfly kisses all over her face as he stroked her neck with his right hand. He traced her jaw line with gentle kisses and made his way down to her throat. He moved off to the right, feeling her arms tighten around his neck, hearing her gasp. He kissed around the top of her neck, looking for her pulse under his lips. He finally found it, and could suddenly feel her blood rushing beneath her soft, supple skin. He kissed her here once before gently taking this skin into his mouth and starting to suck gently on it. He felt her breath against his ear as she moaned.

"Tom…" Ginny suddenly whimpered.

"What is it, Princess?" Tom said against her skin.

She gulped. "I… I don't know…" She whimpered, and shifted her position on his lap. "I feel… I don't know what it is – I feel so strange…" Tom pressed his lips to her pulse, and said nothing, waiting for her to continue. A second later, she said, uncertainly, "It doesn't hurt, but… I… I _ache_…"

Tom smirked against her throat. "Where, Princess?"

There was a silence for a second, and then, "Everywhere."

Tom shivered, inwardly… She was so unknowing, so _innocent_… "Close your eyes, Princess," he told her. She made a small sound of consent and he knew she did it. "It's alright, Princess," he murmured, softly. "Just keep your eyes closed, and relax. I'm going to make it better…" He fingers ran over the buttons of her uniform blouse and he started to undo them…

xXxXx

Tom collapsed on top of Ginny, feeling fully satisfied, more so than he could ever remember being in his life. Beneath him on the couch, Ginny shivered.

"Cold, Princess?" he asked, speaking into her collar bone. He felt her nod, and took off his robe. At this point, he amusedly noticed that it was the only item of clothing he had taken off during this whole evening… so unlike the nude girl beneath him.

Ginny arched her back a little and let him wrap it around her. Once he did, he lay back down on top of her and buried his face into her neck, closing his eyes.

Ginny sighed, sleepily, trying to figure out how she was feeling. It had felt good… She had been scared at first, and so uncertain throughout the whole ordeal. And she had panicked when she felt the first pain between her legs, and had tried to scream out loud, but he had silenced her by covering her mouth with his own… She had been scared then, but only moments later, it was gone. After that… It was uncomfortable, but it felt good, and it got rid of the painful ache that she had been experiencing during their first kisses. Now she was confused because … it was a good thing, wasn't it? It hurt, yes, but it brought her closer to him, and it relieved her of whatever she was feeling before… But her mother said to never let a boy, or anyone for that matter, touch her like that… Why? She was truly confused…

There was something Ginny Weasley always did whenever she felt so uncertain about something… "Tom?" she asked.

He closed his eyes. "Yes?" he mumbled into the crook of her neck.

"Was… was that a bad thing?"

"Did it feel like a bad thing?"

"No…"

"Then?"

"It was just… My mother said…"

"Ginevra," Tom said, his voice firm. "If it feels good, it can't be bad."

"Oh… Okay," she murmured, still uncertain, but trying not to show it.

Tom got up a little and looked her in the eyes. "Did it feel good?" She nodded, immediately. He gave her a small smile and pressed his lips to hers. "Ginevra… I love that name…"

Ginny smiled up at him, a little pleased.

"I've got something, and with your name alone, without your mother's name or your family's," Tom said.

Ginny looked up at him, excited, as sleepy as she was… "What is it?" she asked.

He kissed her again, and moved away so little that his lips brushed against hers as he spoke. "Regina."

"Regina?" Ginny asked.

"Queen, Princess," Tom murmured against her lips. "It's Latin for queen." He saw the pleasure in her eyes at that. "My queen." He kissed her lips. "My Regina." He kissed her again. "My Ginevra…"

"Tom," Ginny suddenly murmured.

"Yes, Princess?"

"You forgot the 'V,'" Ginny said, sounding a little upset.

"Oh, no, I didn't," Tom said, smirking against her lips. "We'll leave that to the side for now… It's like… an initial."

xXxXx

Six years later…

"I'm pregnant," Ginny whispered again, tears finally spilling freely. She hung her head and closed her eyes, crying softly.

Dumbledore looked worried, Harry looked confused, and Snape's eyes darted from her to Voldemort.

"You're carrying his child?" Dumbledore finally asked.

Ginny nodded, not being able to meet his gaze.

"Wha - ?" Harry suddenly asked. "You're carrying… Whose?!"

Snape glanced irritably at him, and Dumbledore closed his eyes for a second, almost as if trying to will the problem away.

"You truly are dense," Voldemort said to Harry then. "Mine, Potter. It's mine."

"No!" Harry retorted. "It can't be!"

Voldemort exaggeratedly rolled his eyes, mocking him, but didn't say anything.

"It's his, Harry," Dumbledore said, softly. "That's why the Kardrik Wall let him take her. He was summoning the child, and because it is a part of her, she went, too."

"Yes, that must be it," Voldemort muttered, and for a second, Dumbledore could not tell if he was being sarcastic or not. He did not have the chance to ponder on it, though because there was a violent reaction from Harry.

"You damned bastard!" Harry snapped at Voldemort. "If that wall wasn't up, I would – "

"Stop, Harry," Dumbledore suddenly said. He opened his eyes and fixed him with a serious look. "You can't make the situation worse for her," he said, softly. He turned back to Ginny, who was still sobbing. "How, Ms. Weasley?"

Ginny gasped and tried to stop crying. "It… It was…" She managed, before crying again. "My first year… I've been this way since… Two – two months along…" She stopped, unable to go on for a second and for a long moment, the only sound in the whole area was her choked sobbing. "Herm… Hermione invented a potion that summer… It stopped its growth – she – she couldn't find out… Kill it safely…" She broke down crying again.

"So the mudblood decided to do away with it? Oh, we'll have to do something about that…" Voldemort, who'd been watching Ginny during the last few moments, turned to Dumbledore. "There you have it, Dumbledore," he said. "Short and simply put." He smirked, wryly. "I would go into details, but you know I'm a very private man…"

"When I get my hands on you…" Harry snarled, loudly, glaring viciously at him.

Voldemort barely glanced at him. "Now," he said. "As much as I would love to stay here and chat with you, I must really get going." Ginny suddenly stood straight, eyes wide in panic. "We'll take leave now," he said.

"No," Ginny whispered.

"Don't you dare, Tom - " Dumbledore started.

But there were simultaneous cracks and snaps, and every single person outside the Kardrik Wall disappeared.

xXxXx

The atmosphere was much calmer now, but there was a load of tension that hung heavily in the air. The students and teachers went about their business fearfully, expecting more crashes to ring out at any second. The Ministry of Magic was working with its aurors feverishly to find the abducted girl, and Order members were appearing as soon as they could to Hogwarts for an emergency meeting. Things were problematic – Voldemort was back to his youthful self, Ginny Weasley had been captured, Severus Snape's true loyalties had been given away, Hermione Granger's life was at risk…

Minerva McGonagall sat behind her desk, not knowing exactly what she could say to the young lady on the other side of the desk. After a brief greeting, she had asked her to sit down, and the young woman had chosen the chair in front of the desk, choosing to conduct the visit as a business meeting instead of a personal "visiting my favourite teacher" sort of call. Once she herself had been seated, the deputy headmistress found herself at a loss for words. "Tea?" she finally asked.

Hermione Granger, who had been staring out the window, turned to her almost as if surprised to see her. "Oh? Um… No," she murmured. "Thank you."

McGonagall sighed a little. The girl was as smart as ever… Just two days ago, she had learned that Hermione, after working all year, through the summers as well as the school years, was shooting through her mediwitch training and well beyond what was normally expected after only a year of training. Though now she realized that Hermione was much smarter… or more ambitious or stubborn than she had previously given her credit for. Just after her second year at Hogwarts, she had found out that abortion required powerful dark magic and reacted by designing a potion to stop the _growth_ of the child?! McGonagall thought for a second. Or maybe Hermione wasn't just smart, ambitious or stubborn… Maybe she just felt a strong sense of duty to help her friends. Maybe that's why, try as she might, the deputy headmistress could not find a way to admonish her for what she did.

McGonagall leant forward. "Hermione…" she said, shaking her head. Hermione had been staring at the edge of the desk and didn't look up or react to her name, but McGonagall knew that she was listening. The older woman closed her eyes and massaged her temple. "When you came back for your third year, I knew there was something wrong… Throwing yourself into all that work, getting snappy and defensive at everything… I knew something was wrong – why didn't I pursue the matter?"

"Huh," Hermione suddenly said, and her voice sounded hollow.

McGonagall looked up at her and saw that the young muggleborn's eyes were shiny. "Why didn't you say something?" she asked, softly. "You should have told me…"

Hermione looked up and glared at her. "And tell you what exactly?!" she snapped, but McGonagall felt that her anger was directed at herself. "What could I have said to you?! 'I just spent half my summer researching how to kill an unborn child, and I found out I couldn't – not until I was older, so I decided to put it off by making something to stop it's growth so that I could finish it off in another few years?!'" She gulped suddenly, and turned away, her hand flying quickly across her cheeks. "Gods, I was never raised like this… Killing a person, unborn or not, is _wrong_…" She stood up and turned her back to her former teacher, hugging herself.

McGonagall thought for a second. "What choice did you have… It was Riddle's - "

"On what level does that make any sense?!" Hermione snapped again, turning back to her. Her trembling hands were now fists at her sides. "You think I never thought that?! But I had just come out of a year – a full _year_ – of constantly fearing for my life. Someone was trying to kill me, not for something I did, but because of who _I_ _am_. Who my _parents_ were. How could I just end a full bloody year of that, and suddenly even think of killing a _child_ because of who his or her father was?!"

"You little - "

Hermione turned around in surprise at hearing someone behind her. As soon as she did, she was slapped across her face so hard that she stumbled backwards and almost fell to the floor.

"Severus, _no!_" Hermione heard McGonagall yell.

Snape, who had just come in through the fireplace, ignored the deputy headmistress and grabbed Hermione's arm to keep her from falling and backhanded the other side of her face before throwing her onto a double seater couch. "God help me if I don't beat you to death today!" he yelled. He pulled out his wand and Hermione didn't have time to react before something that felt like a red hot invisible whip hit her from her right shoulder to her stomach.

"Expelliarmus!"

Snape's wand flew out of his hand and into that of Dumbledore, who had just entered the room. The headmaster was standing in front of the fireplace, blue eyes glaring viciously at the Potions Master.

McGonagall, who had just called Dumbledore, ran to the couch and sat down beside Hermione who was now crying openly and had braced herself against the couch, expecting another blow. The older woman pulled her into her arms, and starting trying to comfort her with little success.

"How dare you," Dumbledore's whispered voice was enraged. For a moment, the two men glared at each other and the only sound in the room was Hermione's muffled sobbing. "How dare you hit a woman - "

"Spare me your self-righteous babble!" Snape interrupted. "Everything – Everything I've worked on over there is gone. We have nothing to expect attacks from or know whose loyalties lie where or anything! I doubt I can go back because this idiot girl - "

"Oh, that is _rich_," Hermione suddenly spoke up from the couch. She pushed McGonagall away from her and glowered at Snape. Her face was red because of the hits, her cheeks were tear streaked and her eyes were still shining with tears. "Great, I'm glad something good finally came of what I did because let me tell you something, Severus Snape, we are sick and tired of your damn spy work! It's fucking _torture_ waiting everyday to see if you'll arrive breathing at the headquarters every day – and we all know it's been weak attempt – Voldemort hadn't trusted you for a long time and you keep returning hurt over bloody nothing. Now you can quit your damn 'it'd be alright if I die' act and your spying, and maybe the rest of us can sleep a little easier at night!" Done with her rant, Hermione got up from the couch and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

The three professors in the room stared after her, shocked at her outburst. Dumbledore recovered first. "That was… Unexpected," he muttered. "A little, at least." He turned to Snape. "We do worry about you."

Snape turned from the door and glared at Dumbledore. "Save it," he stated with a scowl. "I'm going to tell him I did what I did to ward off suspicion from you."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No… No," he muttered. "It's too risky. Hermione is right."

"You're doing this because of her - " Snape started, angrily.

Dumbledore glared at him. "I'm doing this because of you," he snapped. "For your good, for your safety." His expression softened and he looked tired. "He suspects you, now more so than ever – you would be the last person to find out where he has kept Ginevra Weasley."

"Unless I do something to prove my allegiance to him," Snape muttered.

Dumbledore decided not to answer him. "I fear for that poor girl's life… I have not yet read or heard about any life giving substances that have to do with children. It leads one to wonder why he would come back for her after all these years."

"Perhaps we've missed something," Snape said.

"Or maybe it's new…" Dumbledore mused.

"New?" McGonagall asked.

"Perhaps he's invented a new way to use the child for selfish needs," Dumbledore said.

"Invented? The man has been little more than a mere shadow for over a decade and has only gotten a body for the last four – people don't just invent these things overnight," Snape pointed out.

Dumbledore gave him a pointed look. "Hermione Granger managed to invent that growth-stunt potion in little more than two months," he stated.

Snape narrowed his eyes at him, but said nothing, choosing not to give Dumbledore a reason to lecture him again.

"I still wonder how he knew she was carrying his child," McGonagall suddenly spoke up. "She never looked pregnant – no other signs of pregnancy, at least nothing visible or something that can be detected by anyone other than the mother."

"He may have… planned this six years ago," Snape mused. "But then nothing else we had concluded about the Chamber of Secrets incident would make much sense."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore muttered. "But it may still. We never knew much about his relationship with Ms. Weasley, after all."

Snape looked at him for a second. "I don't understand why you refuse to hear reason – if I'm over there, the least I could do is find information on what he's planning on doing with her."

"Why do you want to go back?!" McGonagall snapped, suddenly.

Snape eyed her. "I am just trying to play my part," he stated.

"Is that so?" McGonagall asked. "Or." She glanced at the door. "Or, maybe now you're just doing this to spite Hermione - "

"Or maybe - " Snape started, voice rising.

"Stop!" Dumbledore yelled. "Both of you…" He turned to Snape. "Severus, go back if you want." He chose to ignore McGonagall's angry expression then. "But first, sit by yourself and think about what you're about to do and why you want to do it. While you do, remember to consider the fact that there are many of us who care a deal for you." Snape's expression remained stony and Dumbledore looked him in the eye. "Then, if you still wish to go, do one last thing: Apologize to Hermione Granger." Snape looked away with a irritated expression. "Then, you may walk out the front door, and nobody will stop you."

Snape eyed him and wordlessly started out, but was interrupted.

"Apologize," Dumbledore said. "Whether you leave or not."

Snape turned and scowled at him. "If I save her friend, I'm sure that would be enough apology for anything I've ever done to her!" he snapped.

"Is that it?" McGonagall suddenly asked. She smiled wryly. "Riddle may have almost killed Ms. Weasley during her first year, but you've been abusing Hermione for the last eight. You think saving Ms. Weasley from a relationship so like your own with Hermione will negate everything you've done to her?"

Snape eyed her, distastefully. "You really have no idea what you're talking about," he muttered. He turned to Dumbledore. "If those are your terms, you will soon realize the Order will never see the Weasley girl alive again." And he left – Dumbledore couldn't stop him because he couldn't argue.

When the door slammed shut behind Snape, Dumbledore sunk down onto the couch beside McGonagall, feeling worn out and exhausted. He felt McGonagall place a comforting hand on his shoulder and placed his own over hers, but could not think of anything to say that would make the situation any better.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Enter," McGonagall said.

The door creaked as it slowly opened – possibly a result from being slammed by Hermione and Snape – and Hermione timidly entered the room, still hiding a bit behind the door. "I have to tell you something," she whispered, her voice a little hoarse.

"Come in, child," Dumbledore said, a little relieved that she hadn't left the castle in anger.

Hermione stepped into the room and softly closed the door behind her. As soon as she did, McGonagall gasped. "Oh, my – Your cheek!" The skin between Hermione's right eye and hairline were black and blue where Snape had hit her.

Hermione shook her head. "It'll be okay – I'll put some ice on it," she mumbled, eyes downcast.

"Sit, sit," McGonagall said, moving to lead her to the opposite couch.

"I've… spoken to Severus," Dumbledore said, a little hesitantly.

Hermione smiled, wryly. "It's alright – he was right. What I did was incredibly stupid." She frowned. "In fact, it's about to get worse."

Dumbledore and McGonagall glanced at each other, before turning back to the brunette before them.

"What I made… It's not permanent. It's supposed to be taken every month," Hermione explained. She paused for a second. "It… It wasn't fully a potion… It was based on chemistry, biology… I didn't want to risk hurting Ginny by doing something to cause an outright abortion. You know, nothing to risk her life, her magic, or the possibility of her ever having children, anything of that sort." She paused for a second. "I… Also had a problem with killing an unborn child."

"That's understandable, Hermione," Dumbledore said then.

Hermione smiled, weakly. "Thank you," she said. Then, continued. "What I made was just something to confuse her brain. It interferes with the chemicals that it releases every month and interferes with signals her womb sends her brain all the time – because that's how muggles have mapped out the human anatomy – the brain controls everything and no other body part can do a thing without it's… permission." She paused, and then continued.

"It's a cycle, every month. In women who aren't pregnant, once a month, the brain sends chemicals to the body, telling it to collect nutrients and store them in the womb, so that if a child is conceived, these nutrients can be fed to the child. The brain then sends out more chemicals to tell the ovaries to send out an egg, expecting it to be fertilized that month and grow into a child. The brain then waits for a few days for the conception, but when it does not come, it tells the womb to… get rid of the egg and the nutrients." At this point, she looked at her professors pointedly. At the back of her mind, she mused that it was strange that she, a nineteen year old, was explaining it to her professors, who were much older.

Dumbledore and McGonagall glanced at each other, and Dumbledore coughed a little, turning back to Hermione. McGonagall shook her head at Hermione. "That actually explains a lot… How do muggles figure these things out?" she asked.

Hermione smiled a little, feeling quite proud of her heritage… She would have been a little more pleased, if it wasn't for the situation. She grew serious again. "In any case, it's a cycle, every month. Round and round and round. But, it stops when a woman does become pregnant. The potion interfered with the brain to womb communication – the brain doesn't recognize that she is pregnant and would not let the rest of the body send extra nutrients for the child. The womb, however, recognizes her pregnancy, and is feeding the child the nutrients that is collected every month… The ovaries still send out an egg every month, yes, but that is the only thing that is gotten rid of, every month. The rest of the nutrients have been used to keep the baby alive. The problem is, this is only enough for a child in the first trimester – the baby can live, but not grow."

"Ms. Weasley didn't take the potion this month," McGonagall said, softly. "Her brain will find out that she is pregnant and start providing the child with what it needs to start growing again."

Hermione shook her head, and Dumbledore and McGonagall looked at her, surprised. "She took it… But…" She stopped and sighed. "Ginny is two months and three weeks along, not just two months… Her… baby found a… source of nutrients." At this point, she looked her professors in the eye. "What I'm about to tell you may sound evil – but it's not. Remember, this child is thoughtless… He or she is only a bunch of cells trying to survive."

Dumbledore and McGonagall glanced at each other, before turning back to Hermione.

"Not many people know about this – it only became famous in the muggle world after an American writer – Stephen King – wrote a book based on it… I'm not sure that this is what happened to Ginny, but it's the only explanation I can think of… She was pregnant with twins."

Dumbledore and McGonagall looked a little startled. "There are two?" Dumbledore asked.

"Now, there's only one. There were two before. We found out – checked it with a simple spell out of Introduction to Mediwizardry. Both were stuck at two months with my potion," Hermione said. "But then, before third year, when Ginny was in Egypt, she started … feeling weird, she said. She said her stomach hurt all the time, she felt lightheaded, and thought something was wrong. When she returned to England in September, I checked her again – same spell. Now, instead of having two children at two months each, she had one at almost three." Hermione sighed. "What must have happened was… Sometimes, when there are twins, and one is stronger than the other and both are in need of nutrition, the stronger one … absorbs … the weaker one."

What Hermione was trying to say didn't settle on Dumbledore and McGonagall for a second, but when it did, it hit them like a ton of bricks. "The child … ate its sibling?" McGonagall asked.

Hermione sighed. "That's one way of looking at it," she muttered.

"And used the nutrients it got from its own sibling to grow?" McGonagall elaborated.

"But remember – this child is thoughtless, he or she doesn't know what's happening," Hermione said.

"Hermione… What does this mean now?" Dumbledore finally asked.

Hermione rubbed her eyes, looking stressed. "If she becomes three months pregnant, I can't use the potion anymore – her brain would know for sure by the end of the first trimester. I know no way to stop his or her growth again. If Voldemort takes it a step further, and uses his own magic to protect the child as the father, she can't get an abortion…" She looked up at them. "If Voldemort knows everything I've just told you two, there's an obvious way for him to get the child growing this month and reach the three-month mark, isn't there?"

McGonagall looked grim and looked away. Dumbledore, however, did not seem to understand. "What?" he asked. "But, Hermione, you said she took the potion. Her brain won't let her body give the child the nutrients…"

"Yes… But remember what happened in Egypt?" Hermione asked, wanting not to say what could happen directly.

"The child ate his twin," Dumbledore recalled. He looked puzzled. "But, that was because there was a twin… There is no triplet… There is no other child for him or her to consume."

Hermione looked at McGonagall, who wouldn't meet her gaze. A little annoyed by the deputy headmistress's reaction, Hermione turned back to Dumbledore. "For the past six years, Ginny would write me every month to let me know that her body had disposed of the egg of that month. It hasn't happened yet this month."

Dumbledore looked back at her. "The egg is still inside her. But… the child cannot eat the egg?"

Hermione slowly shook her head. "No, he or she can't."

"The child can only consume another child?" Dumbledore asked again.

"Yes, sir, as long as the other child has the same genes as the stronger one." Hermione looked at him, pointedly.

It finally dawned on Dumbledore. He looked questioningly at Hermione, and then turned to McGonagall, as if he needing confirmation. McGonagall wouldn't meet his gaze. "I pray for Ms. Weasley," she murmured, instead.

Dumbledore turned to Hermione. "So… The child can start growing again, if it has another source of nutrients. And this other source would be a sibling… So… If Voldemort…" His voice trailed off.

Hermione sighed and nodded. "Ginny will have to give birth if Voldemort impregnates her… Again."

xXxXxXx

Creatress: DUN DUN DUN!!! … So, Gin, what do you think?

Gin: (reads last line a few more times) Oh… My… Lord…

Tom: Yes?

Gin: Oh my Lord… OH MY LORD!!

Tom: …I'm right here, princess…

Gin: Oh my … !!

Tom: Okay, then… So am I right in assuming that the next chapter will be rated M?

Creatress: (shrugs) I tried to do a lemon here, but I couldn't… Too hard… Got stuck… I'll try later…

Tom: (snickers)

Creatress: Shut up…

Gin: (finally comes to) Yay, the next one's going to be hotter!! (turns around n almost jumps on Tom, but Creatress holds her back)

Creatress: C'mon, Hun, save it for Ch.3…

Tom: (glares at Creatress)

Creatress: Let's talk about that anagram!! How was it, guys? It was awesome… C'mon, wasn't it?

Gin: Yeah, I never even saw it before!

Tom: Makes you think about the books a little…

Creatress: (grins) I know!! Okay, I gotta sign out… Lord and Regina can start making out now… (Tom n Gin start kissing n fall to the floor, still at it) And you, readers, the stuff about the pregnancy – the science behind it was a little stretched (to say in the least) so, please, comment on it if you want, but please don't flame me over it!! Now that that's out of the way…REVIEW!! Chapter 3 won't be out until I get at least 10 reviews for this chapter!! REVIEW!!


	3. Never Shall We Part

Disclaimer – I own nothing of the HP books or whatever associated, blada blada blada, you know the drill…

xXxXxXxXxXx

Author's Note:

Creatress: Oh, gods, I ran directly into a writers' block with this chapter – no idea why.

Gin: Yeah… It's so boring at the beginning…

Creatress: No, it's not, you're self-centered little…

Gin: 'Course I am… I'm the Regina.

Creatress: Yeah, creepiness – at least it seemed to sit well with the readers :P.

Gin:….where's Tom…?

Creatress: Sulking…

Gin: Why?

Creatress: You'll see…

luv

Creatress

xXxXxXxXxXx

Chapter 3

Marcia Gouiliana didn't look up from her desk when she heard the sharp crack of someone apparating – or _trying_ to apparate – into her room. The cracking sound went on for a few seconds before silence fell. A second later, someone knocked on her office door.

Still, the dean of the London School of Multi-tiered Medicine and the head of the London Multi-Systems Hospital did not look up. The woman, who looked to be in her late thirties, though she was in fact in her early sixties, ran a hand through her boy-cut black hair before glancing up at the door with her violet eyes. "Come in," she said, her voice a little too cheerful.

The door swung open, and Minerva McGonagall entered, an irritated expression on her face.

Gouiliana glanced up at her. "Don't give me that look," she said, her voice mockingly admonishing, before turning back to the papers before her. She had a slight Slavic accent, which sounded a little unusual because sometimes it sounded a little French. She picked up a pen and started writing things down onto a document. "You should always knock. It's only polite."

McGonagall harrumphed a little and closed the door behind her and fixed her eyes onto the woman before her.

Gouiliana signed her name onto the document and put the pen down. "Have a seat," she said, nodding toward the leather seats on the other side of her desk. She picked up the pages of the document and started straightening them. She finished just as McGonagall sat down. She placed the documents neatly in front her, leaned back in her chair, cupped her hands together and placed them on her lap. She then looked up at the Deputy Headmistress. "What do you want?"

McGonagall studied her for a second. "Don't you wear glasses?" she asked.

Gouiliana smirked a little. "Yes, but then I got tired of them – always getting in the way. Contact lenses - " she ignored McGonagall's questioning look – "not anymore convenient. Got in the way in different methods. So I finally got laser eye surgery."

McGonagall raised her eye-brows.

Gouiliana sighed. "Seriously…" She fixed McGonagall with an agitated expression. "I got surgery done to fix my eyes – they're more than perfect now."

McGonagall's eye-brows shot up further. "You can do that?" she asked.

Gouiliana smiled, wryly. "And wizards say muggles are ignorant…" She sighed. "Well, I guess I was lucky to be born a squib, else I'd be wearing glasses as horrid as your reading glasses."

"You can do magic now," McGonagall pointed out, not bothering to comment on Gouiliana's line about ignorance. She couldn't argue – it was true.

Gouiliana shrugged. "So it came to me at fifteen. Big whoop. I barely use my wand."

"And yet, you're the head of a prestigious school and hospital, both of whom are known for dealing with muggle _and_ wizarding maladies, using both muggle technology _and_ magic."

Gouiliana simply smirked. She leaned forward and rested her elbows against the desk, looking like she was about to share a secret. "You know... A gun for defense, a remote control or two for convenience, and you're set without having to memorize a bunch of Latin words and wrist movements." Gouliana leaned back into her previous position, smiling when she saw a small smile break out across McGonagall's face. "In any case, St. Mungo's death rate is 12 ... Ours is 3." She paused, and smiled when she saw McGonagall nod in agreement. "So, why are you here? Came to visit _my_ star student or to enquire about those we were treating from that attack?"

"A little bit of both actually… And she'll always be mine," McGonagall added. She paused for a second. "Where is she now anyway? I arranged for this meeting because I wanted to tell you both some information at the same time."

Gouiliana thought for a second. "She and her class should just be finishing a biopsy on model brains and lungs." She looked questioningly at McGonagall. "It's been busy the last few days, because of the attack and I haven't had the chance to speak with her. I can't believe she invented a potion to…" McGonagall sighed, and nodded, and couldn't keep a proud smile from forming. Gouiliana also smiled a little. "It's amazing what we can do if something pushes us hard enough… Speaking of which, any information on the Weasley girl?" she asked, curious and concerned.

McGonagall suddenly looked quite stressed. "We'll wait until Hermione gets - "

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Gouliana called, and Hermione Granger entered the room. "Speak of the dev…" Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of the young brunette's blue-tinged bruise but, taking note of the way Hermione winced when she noticed the dean's eye on it, chose not to comment. "How did the biopsy go?" she asked, instead.

Hermione looked tired and stressed. "Very well, I think," she said. She shrugged off her long, white lab coat and looked apologetic. "Professor, Professor," she said, nodding at each of them. "So sorry I'm late."

"It's alright, dear," Gouliana said. "Sit. Professor McGonagall should start as soon as possible, I believe."

McGonagall had been staring at Hermione, especially at her bruise, and started a little. "Yes… Of course." She waited for Hermione to sit down and gave her a smile in greeting before sighing. "I'm afraid I have some… news."

"Hmm, she didn't say what kind. Must be a little of both," Gouiliana mused, out loud, a little sarcastically.

McGonagall smiled a little, but stared at Gouiliana's laptop and could not meet the eyes of the two women in the room. "A few days ago, Severus went back" – Hermione smiled, a little bitterly – "and yesterday night, he was discovered. But he was okay – he escaped," she added, quickly. She glanced up at the two for a second. "And he managed to kidnap another Death Eater, one by the name of Gregory Xavier, and we managed to get some information out of him." She paused. "Voldemort has achieved his goal. He is now immortal." She was well aware of Gouliana and Hermione react, but chose not to pause. "He has been for the past few months." She shook her head. "So, now the questions are why, why, why… Why would he plan a full out attack to abduct Ginevra Weasley if he is already immortal?"

There a heavy silence in the room, and Gouliana broke it. "Immortality was a myth… Anything can be destroyed."

McGonagall shrugged. "He's planning on doing a ritual with the child, once it is born. We don't know what it is – all Xavier knew was that it involved a circle on the ground, the bones of Tom Riddle Sr. and… his grandchild." She sensed Hermione and Gouliana stiffen at this and gasp a little. "Voldemort had discovered this ritual only a few weeks ago, and when he had, he had been furious – Xavier did not know why. But fury gave way to pleasure when he found that Ms. Weasley was carrying his child. Xavier did not know how he found out. All he knows is that this ritual will make him more powerful beyond the realm of even immortality." She looked up at the two women, who were now staring at Gouliana's desk, lost in thought. "And that's it."

Long moments passed in silence, and then Gouliana broke it again. She looked up. "Anything can be destroyed," she repeated. The other two looked at her, questioningly. She looked back at them. "What we do sometimes… We make the mistake of assuming that 'dying' and 'getting killed' are the exact same thing."

Hermione narrowed her eyes in question. "Immortality isn't the same as invincibility," she restated.

"Exactly," Gouliana said. "This ritual seems to be something right out of ancient myths, legends… Sacrificing a child would make the parent invincible – and it was done usually before battles, to ward off the danger of getting killed. I'm not much for Greek mythology, but two major examples come to mind. One during the Trojan War… It led to the development of the jury, I believe… And Odysseus' father-in-law once tried to sacrifice Penelope… Sometimes, it worked the other way: Rulers and dictators faced no trouble as long as their own children were destroyed. The birth of Zeus – he killed his father… The story of Oedipus Rex…"

"He wants to kill his child to attain invincibility?" McGonagall asked.

"What else is beyond the realm of immortality? Immortality – you can't die, but that doesn't mean you can't be destroyed."

McGonagall nodded. "It makes sense. Also… Xavier said that Voldemort can't impregnate her. At least not anymore. Her or anyone else for that matter. He does not know why."

Gouliana raised an eye-brow. "Well, that explains why he would have been angry when he discovered the ritual. A great way for him to achieve whatever he wants, invincibility or not, but, oh darn, he can't impregnate anybody."

"Why, though?" Hermione asked. "I mean… He was able to before…"

Gouliana shrugged. "Being stripped of the ability to reproduce was always the classic price for immortality," she guessed. "It's a possibility."

"That makes sense," McGonagall said. "He couldn't conceive a child himself, so when he found that she was still pregnant with the child of his horcrux – himself – he decided to seize the opportunity."

Hermione sighed, sounding a little relieved. "So, that gives us time. We have a whole month to find her before she finishes the first trimester." But for some reason, this did not bring her much comfort.

xXxXxXx

Ginny couldn't breathe. Her lungs were burning and her throat tightened, and this told her that she couldn't breathe. This was the thought she woke up to.

Her eyes fluttered open, and her mind tried to sort through reality and a dream world. They had only one thing in common, these two worlds, and nothing else. In her dream, she was safe, free, and happy, surrounded by family and friends on the light side. In reality, the darkness, the fear, was so thick, she was blinded. Only one thing was consistent in both worlds – she couldn't breathe.

Something was covering her mouth. She tried to breathe through her nose, but that didn't work – she felt the air go through her nose, but it wouldn't reach her lungs.

Just when the darkness of the room seemed to be ready to be swallowed by the darkness beneath her eyelids, her mouth was suddenly free. She could hear an amused chuckling in the darkness as she gasped and took deep breaths, trying to settle her heart and lungs. She sat up – she had been asleep on a bed – and looked around for the source of that soft laughter in panic, not bothering to wipe away the tears of fear and pain that had welled up in her eyes.

Suddenly, an emerald green fire burst in the fireplace, and the flames gave off a yellow-white light that softly lit up the room. Ginny didn't bother looking around – she'd been in this room for the last two days. The dark brown wooden furniture with it's black sheets had become familiar as she had not left the room and had spent the days in solidarity, save the exception of a house elf named Gertrie, who only showed up for a few minutes, every day to give her meals and ask her to bathe, change, etc…

The emerald flames weren't enough to light up the whole room. She couldn't find the owner of that chuckling, but there was silence in the room now. Her head spinning, she caught sight of her hands. They were quite pale, and contrasted sharply with her black silk night gown.

"My kiss, Princess… Takes your breath away, doesn't it?"

Ginny's head snapped up and her eyes widened in terror. Candles around the room burst to flame and dimly offered more light into the room. Tom Riddle… Lord Voldemort stepped out of the shadows and stalked leisurely to the foot of the bed. "Truly amazing," he said, a cold smile complimenting the appraising look in his blue eyes as they ran over her body. "What just six short years can do… Not that I didn't adore what you looked like before."

Ginny trembled and she clutched fistfuls of the emerald sheets in a desperate attempt to calm her nerves. She was alone with Voldemort … the murderer of hundreds, the destroyer of souls, the reason many people find themselves in empty chaos… But that wasn't what made him dangerous. He wasn't dangerous because he was Voldemort – he was dangerous because he was _her_ reason for finding herself in a lonely, yet chaotic world. He was dangerous because he was Tom Riddle.

She stared at him for a second. "You…" she whispered, barely audibly.

He raised an eye-brow. "Yes, Princess, me," he said, with a small smirk.

"Don't call me that!" she suddenly said, her voice strangled. She blinked, shocked at herself, and a few tears fell.

Voldemort didn't seem angered by this. Instead, he looked amused. "Well, I suppose the name doesn't fit well anymore, does it. You're all grown up now." He stepped around to the side of the bed, and Ginny stiffened.

"Don't you dare come near my bed," she said, but her voice shook, betraying the brave face she had tried to put on.

Voldemort looked a little exasperated. "It's my bed, Princess," he told her, matter-of-factly.

"Please don't call me that," Ginny repeated, her voice begging. She wished he would stop talking like that – She didn't want to hear his voice. She also deeply wished he would stop calling her princess. Because that was Tom's voice, Tom's name for her – and though it was true that Tom hadn't been real, that boy she'd loved hadn't been Voldemort.

Voldemort eyed her and smirked. "Lay down," he said.

Ginny looked up at him, cold panic running through her veins. She slowly shook her head.

Voldemort fixed her with a serious expression. "Do not disobey a direct order, Ginevra. Lay down."

Ginny wanted to – she really did. She was so afraid of what he may do to her if she were to disobey him, but if she was to suffer, she would rather go down fighting than be submissive. Also… She was more afraid of what he would do to her as soon as she did lay down. Any pain he may inflict upon her for disobeying him would be nothing compared to the torture she would feel if he touched her the way Tom used to… His appearance, his voice already hurt so much – his touch would kill her…

Gulping a little, she met his gaze and shook her head once. Voldemort narrowed his eyes for a second, and the next thing she knew, the back of his hand slammed into the side of her face and the force sent her sprawling down onto her side, facing away from him. Her vision blurred for a second, and she closed her eyes, trying to stop the world from spinning. She felt the mattress sink a little behind her, and her heart raced.

Voldemort grabbed her shoulder and rolled her over onto her back. He smirked a little when she opened her eyes and met his gaze – he loved that she had some backbone to her. Her spunk was fun – it was entertaining. It wasn't that he didn't like whenever she was the scared little girl, alone and trembling in his arms, perfectly fragile and malleable at the same time… The sense of power it gave him was more intoxicating than any drug or his favourite drink (Gin, coincidentally). What was so arousing about this situation was that she was trying to put on a brave front, but he could read her as clearly as he was able to six years ago. Her sorrow over what had happened to them the last time they'd been together and the overwhelming fear she felt now were so clear in her chocolate brown eyes.

Smirking, he reached out and gently ran the back of his fingers over the side of her face where he'd just hit her. Ginny quickly turned away, bracing herself, and closed her eyes and screwed them shut tighter when she felt his gentle touch – which was mocking at the same time. He knew how she felt… This made her want to just curl up and cry…

"Ginevra."

Ginny shut her eyes tighter. She would not answer…

"Princess…" he cooed, mockingly.

She hated him – she would not even react… She suddenly felt his breath against her closed eyes.

"The mother of my child."

Her eyes snapped open, and, placing her right hand over the bottom of her stomach, she turned to face him, feeling numb. He was mere centimeters away from her, but his closeness didn't invoke a reaction from her – she was too afraid already.

He smirked, smugly and sat up.

"What are you going to do to us?" Ginny asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Does it matter, Ginevra?" Voldemort dropped his gaze from her eyes to her right hand, which was still resting, gently but almost _protectively_, over her womb. "What were _you_ going to do to it?" He placed his own right hand over hers, and she stiffened for a second, but he ignored her and pushed her hand aside a bit. Then, he placed his own hand over her womb, and gently stroked it. He looked back up at her and kept her gaze. "When did you plan on killing it?"

Ginny shook her head, though never letting her eyes stray from his. "I was never going to hurt my baby – Hermione and I could never have brought ourselves to…" She glared at him. "My child wouldn't deserve it anyway."

Voldemort merely smiled, wryly. "No, Ginevra – but mine would. How would you have been able to deal with a living, breathing creature who constantly reminded you of what I did to you?" He smirked a little, seeing her eyes getting glazed as tears welled up.

"I've been dealing with my own memories for the last six years," she pointed out, bitterly. She turned away, and blinked, and didn't bother brushing away the tears that fell.

He responded with a knowing smirk. "I know…" He leaned over her, arms on both sides of her head, and gently kissed a tear away. She started and glanced at him before turning away again, but he could see the panic and pain in her eyes. "I'd been watching you before the attack," he said softly, his breath gently caressing her face. "Six years after our little games and I still don't let you sleep peacefully at night, do I?" At these words, she blinked again and another tear fell. She closed her eyes as he leaned over her again, and her heart raced when she felt his tongue run over the tear below her eye, and then his lips as he kissed her there.

Ginny then felt his lips leave her cheek and she gulped, opening her eyes. "What will you do to us?" she asked again. She turned to face him.

Voldemort simply smirked again and swirled a few strands of her hair around his index finger. "To you and my child?" he asked.

"_My_ child," she whispered.

"No, Princess… Mine. My child, my property." His smirk widened a bit at the fearfully defiant look on her face. "It may be born to you, as well, but you're my property, too, aren't you?"

"No," came the expected reply.

"Oh, you are. Soon I'll have evidence of it, Ginevra," he said, his voice firm. He glanced at her womb before fixing her with a questioning look. "I can't help but wonder why we keep talking as if this child will be born." His right hand was suddenly over her womb again, and Ginny dropped her gaze to it, fear in her eyes.

"What are you saying?" she asked, her voice shaking.

He fixed her with a dark, contemptuous gaze. "It's so fragile, so _weak_… I wouldn't even need my wand."

At this point, his right hand curled into a fist and Ginny gasped. Without thinking about it, her hands flew around his and she clutched it firmly. "You wouldn't," she whispered, albeit beseechingly. She shook her head. "You wouldn't… You need this child – why else would you have kidnapped me?"

Voldemort smirked. He turned to his right hand, which was still clad in both of hers, and twisted it so that he was holding her right hand, letting her left drop to the bottom of her stomach. He brought her hand to his face and he pressed his face against it for a second before placing a soft kiss above her knuckles. He turned back to her, still firmly holding her hand in his. "You remember when this child was conceived," he stated.

Some of her anger appeared in her eyes again. "You used me," she accused him.

"Oh, but, Ginevra… It was a _good_ thing."

"I trusted you," she whispered.

"Yes, and you loved me, too. And you were so blind – you saw me, but you didn't see who I was… Who did you fall in love with? Who did you trust? Did you really ever know?" he asked, seriously, his voice not mocking, but simply stating the facts.

Her breath caught in her throat and she choked, not knowing what to say. She bit her lip and turned away, trying to stop herself from crying.

"The thing about 'good things' is… There really is no such thing as 'too much of a good thing.'"

What he was saying didn't dawn on her for a second. She slowly turned back to him, fear clear on her face.

He smirked, darkly and firmly pressed his lips against hers, making her wince as a slight feeling of familiarity, as weak and translucent as a dream, but a feeling of familiarity nonetheless, shot through her. He then pulled away and looked down at her, contemptuously. "I am going to rape you again and again and again until you pass out in exhaustion, and then, I'm going to use your beautiful body some more, each night, every night as long as you're here." He paused a second and took in the sight of her eyes which were overflowing with tears that were now running freely down the sides of her face. "That is why I kidnapped you."

"I hate you," she said, her voice low and thick with emotion.

"No, Ginevra, you hate what I did to you. You hate what I'm doing to you now, and you will hate what I'll do to you in the future, but you'll never hate me. You've been trying to hate me for the past six years, but you never stopped loving me, did you?"

"I never loved you," she said, turning away. "Tom – I loved him. You are not him."

"Is that what you think?" he asked. "You're in denial, Prin…" He stopped and looked at her. "Why do I keep calling you that?"

Ginny turned to him, surprised.

"Oh, I'm not saying I'm not Tom, Ginevra – believe me, I am…" he paused and looked thoughtful, before shaking his head. "Lord Voldemort," he finished, decidedly. He smiled, coldly. "I am, and have always been, forever will be." He looked her in the eye. "But so was Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Ginny gulped, and turned away again, not bothering to answer.

"In any case, I shouldn't call you Princess anymore," Voldemort continued. "Should I?... Regina?"

Ginny whipped around to face him, and something that she hadn't pondered about for the last six years started to dawn on her. "The V…" she breathed, her heart racing while feeling like it was being squeezed.

Voldemort smirked and leaned over her again. He kissed her once, shortly, coldly but firmly before looking into her eyes. "Again and again, my Regina, until you pass out." He looked into her eyes for a second, drinking in her pain and fear. He kissed her again and smirked when she tried to turn away. "Crucio." And she screamed into his mouth.

xXxXxXxXx

One month later…

Kingsley Shacklebolt cursed softly. He lifted his wand and sent large bright red sparks into the air as he stared through the invisible Kardrik Wall, where Death Eaters had just started appearing.

xXxXxXxXx

"Are you alright?"

Hermione looked up at Tonks and tried to smile. "It's been a month tonight," she stated, turning away.

Tonks sighed and sat down beside her. "Would you like to see my pig nose?" she asked, weakly.

Hermione didn't answer. "Ginny would never have brought herself to abort her child. No mother can give birth and not love her baby… It won't be her pregnancy and birth that will hurt her – after her baby's born, he will kill that child, and she will die from the pain of it."

Tonks opened her mouth to answer, but just then, bursts of red outside the window caught her eye. "Hermione…" she said.

Hermione looked up and followed her gaze out the window. The two women quickly caught sight of the Death Eaters.

"I have to go," Tonks stated and started to leave the room.

"Tonks!"

Tonks stopped and turned to look at Hermione, whose eyes were narrowing. "Hermione?" she asked, confused.

Hermione didn't turn away from the window. "Ginny…"

xXxXxXxXx

Two agonizingly slow seconds had passed before Shacklebolt found himself flanked on both sides by Severus Snape and Remus Lupin. By now, they'd spotted Ginny and were getting ready to figure out the best possible way to save her.

"Get ready," Snape muttered and the other two tightened their grips on their wands.

"Hold your attacks!"

The three men glanced back to see Tonks, Hermione and Dumbledore rush out of the building. The three kept their eyes fixed on Ginny.

Ginny, clad in a black cloak over a silvery gray dress, looked like she was drugged – she could barely keep her head up and had trouble standing. Her eyes looked glazed over and unseeing, and it was obvious that she was unaware of her surroundings.

"What, Dumbledore, she isn't dead, is she?" Voldemort asked, sarcastically.

"What have you done to her?" Dumbledore asked, hoarsely.

"Nothing – she's perfectly healthy," Voldemort answered, mockingly matter-of-fact. "I have some level of sense, you old…" He stopped and looked at the redhead in his arms. He turned back to Dumbledore. "This past month has been…" He paused and pretended to think. "Fun," he finally said. He ignored the reactions of the other Order members, and continued. "Unfortunately… I can't be around the child until it's born…" Dumbledore thought he sounded a little bitter at this point. He glanced at Ginny again. "So, it is with great… sorrow… that I must return Ginevra to you. Keep her safe – I trust you know that any danger to her or the brat will result in immediate death to all sources responsible." He stepped up to where the Kardrik Wall was up, still holding Ginny, who was resting her weight against him, too weak to hold herself up. "I'll be back for her in about six months." With that, he looked at Ginny for a second and kissed her once before gently pushed her through the Wall, and apparated, followed closely by the others.

Ginny stumbled forward and stopped. She swayed for a second before collapsing, unconscious, to the ground.

"Gin!" Hermione, Remus and Tonks reached her first, and Hermione gently picked her up and levitated her off the ground. It was then that Ginny's cloak slipped a bit off her right shoulder to reveal her pale arm. Tonks gasped, and Remus swore. Dumbledore, Shacklebolt and Snape rushed around them to see what had happened. Feeling a lump forming in her throat, Hermione grasped Ginny's wrist and brought it up to examine her forearm. The Dark Mark had a black rose, adorned with thorns, behind the skull and there were words beneath it so small that Hermione had to squint in order to read it.

_The state of death shall never start,_

_And so never shall we part._

xXxXxXxXxXx

A/N

Creatress: Okay, okay, I promise a lemon next chapter!! Seriously all…!!

Gin: That chapter was stuffed to the brim with clues!

Creatress: Yeah, things should be starting to dawn on you, though I'll admit it was very, very vague… So, here are some of the quotes you should probably pay the most attention to:

"_He's planning on doing a ritual with the child, once it is born… it involved a circle on the ground, the bones of Tom Riddle Sr. and… his grandchild."_

_xXxXx_

"_I trusted you," she whispered._

"_Yes, and you loved me, too. And you were so blind – you saw me, but you didn't see who I was… Who did you fall in love with? Who did you trust? Did you really ever know?"_

_xXxXx_

"_Unfortunately… I can't be around the child until it's born…" Dumbledore thought he sounded a little bitter at this point._

Also, he married her – why would he do that? Think about who he is…

Gin: Creatress, stop pointing out the obvious. You're treating the readers like children – don't patronize them.

Creatress: Yeah, okay…

Gin: The next one will be lemon, right?

Creatress:… wtf is it w/ you?!

Gin: (rolls eyes)

Creatress: Okay… Readers, REVIEW!! Once again, no updates until I get at least ten!! Love you all! Ciao!


	4. A Mother's Love

Disclaimer – I own nothing of the HP books or whatever associated, blada blada blada, you know the drill…

xXxXxXxXxXx

Author's Note:

Creatress: You know what I _should _be doing? Studying for my economics exam.

Gin: Pfft. Where's the fun in that?

Tom: Yes. Your own fault, Almighty Creatress, for not doing the fourth chapter for so long.

Creatress: I was busy. I was trying to do a lemon for my SSHG... Crap, I have to finish that!!

Tom: Why?? You've been in TMRGW longer than SSHG!

Creatress: (sighs) Sev and Mione won't be happy about this...

luv

Creatress

xXxXxXxXxXx

Chapter 4

The silence of the night in Private Ward: Room 7 at the London Multi-Systems Hospital was gently broken at first by sharp intakes of breath and soft gasps. Twists and turns against the white sheets added little to the sounds. No passing doctors or nurses glanced at the dark room, where they believed a young redhead was resting _peacefully_.

Finally, a second-year medical student stepped into the Private Wards Wing, closely followed by a blonde. The two started making their way to Room 7 to check up on their friend.

"Her family isn't here?" the blonde asked.

The brunette chewed lightly on her bottom lip and only continued in silence.

"Mione?" the blonde asked.

"No, Luna, they aren't here," Hermione responded. She glanced at the blonde, who simply said nothing.

Luna knew what had happened, just as well as Hermione did - the Weasleys weren't here because they could not get over what Ginny had done. Harry and Hermione couldn't talk reason into the family, and even Luna, who always knew what to say and make things better, had no luck. She had gently told them that Ginny was young, that she had trusted Tom Riddle, that she was only trying to please a friend whom she didn't truly know. Luna went so far as to say that Ginny was a victim and shouldn't have to deal hostility from her family when she needed them the most, but Arthur, Molly and their sons had been unconsolable.

"Has she woken up yet?" Luna asked.

"Yes, but only for a few minutes. She would come to consciousness, but she wouldn't wake up. It's like being very lightly asleep - muggles call it REM sleep - before she blacks out again." Hermione shook her head here. "Every time, she has nightmares over what happened to her. She starts murmering something senseless, but you can tell from her facial expressions and movements that she's scared and in psychological pain. We need her to wake up. Everytime she does get to REM, we keep putting her back into a deeper sleep because it looks like she's suffering so much..." Her voice had grown to a soft whisper. "Sometimes I wonder if it would be a mercy to induce a coma or something, but we need her to wake - "

All of a sudden, a scream pierced through the silence. Instantly recognizing the voice, the girls glanced at each other before breaking off into a run toward Room 7. When they got there, three nurses were already inside, trying to calm the woman down. Ginny wasn't awake, her eyes were shut tight, but she was twisting and turning, writhing on the bed as if she was in immense pain and screaming in anguish. The monitors that were measuring her heart beat, blood pressure and brain activity were chaotic - bleeping wildly, there was no pattern to them like there should have been and they were completely out of sync with one another.

"Stunner!" one of the witches called out. "Somebody stun her - "

"No!"

Luna stayed in the doorway, looking terrified as Hermione ran into the chaos in the room.

"You'll may affect her magic and the baby!" the brunette snapped, rushing to Ginny's side. "You - Full body binds," she said to one nurse while trying to hold Ginny still. She turned to another. "Prepare an injection!" She looked at the head nurse, who was trying to help her restrain Ginny. "Where the hell is the doctor?!"

"Doctor Gouiliana said that you were supposed to be here an hour ago to watch her!" the head nurse supplied.

"What?!" Hermione snapped. Without waiting for a reply, she reached out to the second nurse to take the needle from her.

"Mione..."

Hermione glanced up at Luna, who was looking at her soothingly, yet beseechingly at the same time.

"She's in more pain in her sleep, Mi..." Luna whispered, glancing down at the redhead.

Hermione's grip tightened around the needle, but her hand was shaking.

"Mi," Luna whispered, pleadingly.

"Yeah," Hermione said to herself, staring at the needle. "We have to wake her up." Seeing her friend in so much pain was killing her and she suddenly didn't trust herself with the needle - if she held it, she would probably use it. Trying not to think about it, she thrust it back into the bewildered nurse's hands and turned to Ginny. "Wake up, Gin... Dear God, how do I wake you?"

Ginny's screaming had slowly ceased, and she was now moaning while still twisting on the bed.

"Doctor...?" the headnurse asked. Getting no reply from the mediwitch, she gestured to the other two nurses to leave. She thought that she may as well leave herself - there was nothing had could be done in this situation.

Luna finally entered the room and stepped up to the other side on Ginny's bed. Wordlessly she took her friend's hand and held tightly.

"Gin?" Hermione was saying. She was gripping Ginny's other hand and was cupping the redhead's chin with her other hand, trying to keep her still. "Gin, please listen to me. I know you can hear me," she begged.

On Ginny's other side, Luna had sat down on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes, trying to stay calm and failing miserably. "Oh, dear God, Gin..." she whispered. "What did he do to you?" She turned and looked at Hermione. "She's been living with this demon for the past six years... Why did she... " Luna shook her head and turned to Ginny, whose thrashing was now a little more toned down because of Hermione hand under her chin and Luna's other hand, holding her shoulder to the bed. Tears were now starting to leak out of Ginny's closed eyes. "Why hadn't she ever talked about it? I knew she wasn't sleeping well - I realized that the day I found out..."

Hermione nodded, still trying to figure out how to snap Ginny out of it. She was _not _going to let her slip back into unconsciousness this time. Funny, though... All she could think of now was jumping into Luna's pensieve this afternoon, into the memory of the trainride to Hogwarts two years ago when Luna had found out about Ginny's pregnancy. The two fifth years had been alone in the compartment and Ginny had fallen asleep after hours of talking to her friend. Luna sat quietly reading until Ginny started moaning and crying in her sleep. Luna, not wanting to embarass her friend by calling for help, had tried to wake her up, but her voice simply soothed the redhead into a quiet sleep. Luna had gathered some bits of what had happened in Ginny's murmuring, but wasn't aware of the full story. Luna had brought it up when Ginny awoke a bit later, and the redhead had told her second bestfriend everything.

Although Hermione and Luna both knew what was happening, Ginny refused to discuss her feelings and dreams with anyone.

Hermione and Luna had fallen into the memory, checking the compartment for any ways someone could have heard what was being said, and had found nothing. For the life of her, though, Hermione couldn't figure out now why she kept thinking about the memory when her mind should be working on figure out a way to make Ginny wake -

Hermione started as she realized something. Looking down at the redhead, she slowly removed her hand from her chin, fully expecting Ginny to start thrashing her head again. But she didn't. "Luna... Let go of her shoulder." Luna obeyed, though looking a little puzzled, and didn't seem to react from Ginny's lack of movement. The blonde turned to the mediwitch and almost voiced her question, but Hermione put a finger to her lips, looking intently at Ginny.

After a moment of silence, Ginny started quivering and she gasped out loud. She started to moan again and her head flew to it's side and then back again. She was fully starting to writhe again.

"Ginny!" Hermione said, her stern voice begging. "Gin!" Ginny gasped and drew a shuddering breath, but stopped moaning. "Oh my God..." Hermione whispered, realization dawning on her. "Oh, God, Luna - it's us. Gin, fight it! Fight him - we're right here."

"Of course," Luna whispered, sounding a little dumbfounded. She stared at Ginny. "We're her medicine..."

Even as she spoke, Hermione suddenly remembered Ginny's words after the whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco come back to her. _"__He hated you. He hated whenever I spoke to you, because he couldn't convince me that muggles were bad because you were around … "_ 'We're the Anti-Toms,' Hermione suddenly found herself thinking.

"Come on, Gin..." Luna was whispering. "Wake up..."

"Do it, Gin, you've done it before," Hermione said, leaning over her. Ginny stopped moving, but she was breathing hard and clutching her bestfriends' hands tightly. "He can't hurt you... We won't let him hurt you, Gin, if you would just _open your eyes!_"

Suddenly, Ginny's eyes snapped open and she stared up at the two women before her, looking bewildered. Hermione and Luna simultaneously released the breaths they'd been holding. Hermione sat down on the other side of the bed and raised her free hand to her forehead, feeling her eyes burning and getting watery. Luna, who'd been clutching Ginny's left hand with both of hers, brought it up to her face, before closing her eyes, releasing some tears and murmuring a prayer of thanks to some unknown force on their side.

"Mi... Lune... " Ginny whispered, her voice barely audible and hoarse. The two looked at her, and it was hard to tell what the blonde and the brunette were feeling. "Thank you," the redhead whispered. She squeezed their hands, not bothering to wipe away her own fresh tears that started to fall. "Thank you."

The headnurse watched the scene before her with a mix of emotions. No doubt that what Doctor Granger had just done was stupid, but she supposed the young mediwitch had a good reasons. The three girls would have made a cute picture just then - brunette, blonde and redhead all sobbing quietly over the saving of a life and a discovery of a whole new level to their friendship... But the headnurse wasn't much of a sentimental woman. She cleared her throat loudly, successfully catching the attention of the three young women. She fixed the mediwitch with a serious stare. "Doctor, I'm sure you would love to stay here and cry with your friends but you have a report to fill out on this development - "

"I realize that!" Hermione snapped. "But I'm a little busy here and I'll get to it. In the mean time, please leave."

The headnurse eyed her, and ran her gaze over Luna, who was simply gazing at her and Ginny, who was glaring contemptuously before muttering "Yes, madam." and leaving, closing the door behind her.

Left alone, the three girls slipped into a comfortable silence for a few moments. Then they simultaneously eyed each other, and a chorus of soft, relieved laughs burst from them.

"We can't sit in silence for ever," Hermione said, softly.

"I want to," Luna murmured.

Ginny nodded her agreement. "How long have I been out?" she asked.

"A full week," Hermione supplied.

"What happened to me?" Ginny asked.

Hermione and Luna glanced at each other. "We were hoping you would tell us," Luna said.

"What?" Ginny asked.

"Seven days ago, Voldemort just brought you back," Hermione said. Ginny looked questioningly at her. "You looked like you'd been under the Imperius, but that wasn't it. He used some potion on you, and you looked completely drugged up. We managed to counteract whatever it was and after we analyzed it, it looked like something that would basically act like an Imperius. Your senses would have been annihilated."

"What did he want me to do?" Ginny asked.

"What?"

"If he put me under something that worked like the Imperius, he would have wanted me to do something, right?" the redhead asked. She paused and looked at her hands, entwined with her friends as thought. "Whatever it was, why didn't he use the Imp..." Hermione and Luna instantly knew something was wrong. Ginny's eyes widened a little and she visibly paled. "What is that?" Her voice was low and whispery, but demanding.

"What's what?" Luna asked. She and Hermione followed looked at their hands, but both realized at the same time that Ginny's gaze had moved up to her right forearm.

"Gin - " Hermione started.

Ginny closed her eyes, and shook her head before letting go of her friends to bring her hands to her forehead. Her lips were pressed tightly together and she stiffened. It was easy to see what she was trying to do, and Luna said, "It's alright, Gin... Go ahead and cry. You deserve to." Ginny turned onto her side and started crying quietly into her pillow. "Bonding spells... They can never be done properly if you're under the Imperius... " Luna whispered, quietly, but Hermione nodded, silently telling her friend that she'd figured.

"I hate him," Ginny suddenly gasped. "I hate him, dear lord, I hate him so much..."

"Gin," Luna said, soothingly, but Ginny cut her off.

"No, don't you dare," she said. "You two don't even know what happened over there!" She started getting up a little, and Hermione moved to help her, but Ginny shook her off. Shaking her head, she pushed herself up and sat up against the headboard. She pulled her blanket around her. "You guys don't know the kind of things..."

"What happened, Gin?" Luna asked. Hermione looked at her, startled, but Luna glanced at her reassuringly before turning back to Ginny. "Tell us what happened." Ginny shook her head and looked away. "If you keep it inside of you, you will relive it every time you close your eyes, Gin."

"You want to know the kind of things he did?!" Ginny snapped. She glared viciously at them. "Six years ago, he taught me something. I forgot it. So he decided to teach me - again."

"What?" Luna asked, feeling her stomach lurch. She knew Hermione felt the same, but bit it down. "What did he teach you?"

Ginny choked on a sob and smiled twistedly at her arm. "How not to scream..." She whispered. She looked up at their puzzled faces and clarified, her voice painfully even. "How to take the Cruciatus without screaming."

xXxXxXxXxXx Flashback...

Ginny sat in her room, reading through a book on World mythology. She was done with Norse and Greek mythology and was currently reading Indian legends... She wasn't paying so much attention to the actual stories as she was paying attention to the names. She suddenly thought to herself that Veylan sounded like a good name, but another voice in her head firmly said that anything that started with V wasn't getting anywhere near her child. However, Veylan was the shortest one she'd come across and was pretty sure it was the only one she was pronouncing right... Besides, 'barer of the arrow' was a far cry from 'flight from death.' ... Fine then, the best name from Hindu mythology was Veylan. She flipped a page. Ooohhh, Raman - it was nice and short... and it was the name of the man who proved that any mere mortal could overcome an immortal overlord. Oh, Lord Voldemort would simply _love _that. Move over, Veylan.

Her list so far had Odin from Norse mythology, Jason from Greek and Raman from Hindu.

Ginny wasn't sure why she felt this way, but she was quite certain that her child was a boy. She didn't have a wand and knew no wandless magic, so she didn't have hard evidence, but she was quite certain that it was a boy.

Suddenly, Ginny felt an icy shiver run up her spine and knew Voldemort had entered the room. She even thought she felt the baby move a little in fear, but she brushed the thought off - it was too early in her pregnancy for her baby to be moving. She tried to play dumb to his presence and continued to sit on the couch and stare at the book before her, though not really seeing the words. She felt him graze the back of her neck with his fingers as he brushed all of her hair over her right shoulder. His fingers then trailed around the bottom of her neck to stop at the top of her chest before he brushed it up her throat and tilted her head up. She sat perfectly still, but didn't bother to fight and simply closed her eyes as her head was tilted up and a firm kiss was placed upon her lips. He let her go and she turned back to the book.

"My Lady," he said by way of a greeting.

Ginny chose not to look at him. "My Lord," she replied, evenly.

Voldemort sat on a couch across from her. A wave of his hand and her book flew out of her hands and onto the bookshelf behind him. Ginny reacted by glaring out the window. "Look at me," he said, his voice low and menacing.

Trying not to let her fear show, she turned to look at him. This had never happened before... Voldemort had first come to her four days ago, and every night since then, he always appeared at night and was gone before she woke up in the morning. There wasn't much talk - not as much as there had been the first night. Two of the nights, he came in angered beyond all reason and let it out on her through sex. There was one time where he appeared, fresh out of a battle and victorious... That had been the best actually... He had never appeared to her in the middle of the afternoon before and it scared her.

"Now... Did you not realize I had entered or did you think I was someone else?" Voldemort asked.

Ginny almost didn't reply, but choosing not to anger him further, nodded. "I knew it was you."

"And that was the way you would greet your lord?"

Almost smiling bitterly, she turned to the window, but then forced herself to turn back to him. "I would have thought that was the way you would want to be greeted, my _Lord_. For me to stay out of your way. Not say anything, not make any movement; just do nothing that would bother you with my presence."

Voldemort was far from angered by this reaction. He actually gave her a small smile. "And what might have possessed you to make you come to that conclusion?" Ginny watched him as he eyed her for a second. "Oh, that's right... I possessed you." He tilted his head a little to the side and looked at her. "Had I ever offered my appologies, my Lady?" Ginny eyed him for a second, and then turned back to the window, looking like she was under pain and he knew that his words had gotten to her. "Actually, Ginevra, I really have no idea why you would feel that I wouldn't want to know of your lovely presence."

Ginny glared at him. "You tried to kill me," she stated, her voice even.

Voldemort only smiled softly and looked at her. "Now, Ginevra, you know I didn't want to. Circumstances forced me to. Besides, you know you must never bring past scuffles into present matters. It stops one from moving forward."

Ginny smiled bitterly. "That's not what you told me six years ago."

"Is that so?"

Ginny looked at him, and her eyes were a little glazed. "'Never forgive, never forget.' One of your lessons I took to heart."

"That was only part of it, my sweet," Voldemort replied. "The way I recall it, it went something like 'Don't dwell on finished matters. If something bothers you so much, but is unworthy to start a new issue over, simply cast a Crucio in the way of your trouble, and go on. However, never forgive and never forget.'" He stopped and looked at her. "You were actually quite good with the Cruciatus." At this point, Ginny stated something along the lines of "Huh" and glanced at the window, smiling bitterly. He leaned forward a little. "Do it."

Ginny looked at him, startled. "What?" she whispered, growing a little cold.

All of a sudden, her wand was in his hand and he tossed it to her. It landed unceremoniously in her lap and she picked it up with trembling hands. "Do the Cruciatus," he said, his tone daring, and a little excited.

Ginny looked at him, wondering if he had fully lost his mind. "On?" she asked, pathetically, sounding like a twelve-year-old again, even to herself. And she winced. 'On?' was what she'd asked him the first time he asked her to try casting the Cruciatus.

Voldemort laughed a little, his tone wry. "Really, Ginevra, as much as I love reliving our old banter, I really want to see you cast that curse now."

Ginny suddenly felt really scared. She should do it, do it now... But there was a lump rising in her throat, and she found that she couldn't move.

Voldemort eyed her, looking a little amused and he swept up from the couch. Her eyes followed him and she almost cowered back. "Now, Ginevra." There was no reaction was the woman before him. "You know not to disobey an order." Her eyes grew wide, but she didn't have a chance to react. "Crucio."

The air was suddenly full of her anguished screams as she fell back against the couch in total pain. She couldn't think - her body was being torn apart. But as soon as the first amount of sense came back into her head, she focussed on her stomach and panicked when she thought she felt intense fluttering at the bottom. However, her attention was quickly ripped back to Voldemort.

Voldemort waited for her screams to die out, looking almost bored before giving her an oddly disappointed look. "I didn't want to have to do that, my sweet," he said. "Now, let's try again..."

Ginny couldn't control her vocal cords and muttered something that sounded like, "Se... Se - Sect..." Voldemort raised an eye-brow, and was about to ask her what the hell she thought she was doing before the words "Sectum sempra!" exploded from her. The Dark Lord, caught off guard, was hit directly in the chest with the spell, but only the first signs of cuts were starting to appear before he muttered the countercurse he'd developed. He wasn't damaged in anyway, but he was actually a little shocked at her. Someone had _taught _her that spell - she hadn't gotten it from a book because it had never been written about and she hadn't overheard it because that couldn't have provided her the information she would have needed to perform the spell correctly. Done by an amateur, the spell would have just caused deep cuts across his chest, but she had caused the spell to cut into his lungs. An actual _teacher _was needed for that.

"Where did you get that spell?" he asked, his voice not betraying the cover he'd pulled over his shock.

"Her - Hermione," Ginny's answer came. But he noted that it was a little too quick. Ginny elaborated. "Ha - Ha - Harry got it from a b-book." Here she gave an involuntary gasp of bitter laughter. "D-darker than yours."

At the sound of Potter's name, Voldemort felt the familiar jab of fury. He scowled at the woman before him. "Crucio." She started screaming again, and Potter was quickly pushed from his mind as he regarded her. Her screams were delicious - they'd always been, but he was thoroughly annoyed that she couldn't keep herself from making noise. That had been one of the first things he'd taught her. One of the first things... Her screams died out again and he took in her appearance.

She was now quivering from the effects of the curse and was not looking up at him. Seeing her there, her legs hanging off the couch, her upper body sprawled across it on her side, her hair hanging infront of and covering half her face reminded him of something. That was the exact same position she'd been in after the first time he'd done the Cruciatus on her...

Smirking slightly to himself, he walked to the front of the couch and got down on his knees so that her face came up to the bottom of his chest. He gathered her still-quivering body into his arms and placed a small kiss onto her lips. This had the desired effect - she tried to withdraw from him as the feeling of familiarity that had shot through him only moments before fell upon her. But he was too strong and she had to settle for staying perfectly still. He nuzzled against her neck and started kissing her throat. She gasped, placed her hands on his shoulders and tried to push away, but she was too weak, and ended up slumping against him. His lips had made their way to her jawline when she whispered against his neck, "You would do this to your own child?"

Voldemort chuckled softly. "Why shouldn't I?" He leaned her back against the couch and glanced at her stomach for a second. Three months along, but under the blue robes she wore, her stomach was as flat as ever. He started to kiss her across her collarbones and down her chest. "Well, Ginevra?"

Ginny gasped for a second under his lips and bit her lip. "There are... Just some things that people don't do to their unborn children."

"And why wouldn't they?"

Ginny was caught. The most obvious answer would be "Because a parent is supposed to love his or her child" but he would never accept that as a response - his own father had abandoned him, and the abandonment ultimately led to his mother's death. She gulped. "I don't know, my Lord," she whispered as she felt him started to undo her robes. "I'm just begging you now to please stop."

Voldemort looked up at her and cocked up an eye-brow. "You will not use my child as an excuse to get out of punishments, Ginevra." He paused. "Your plan was quite sly, however," he added, almost approvingly.

Ginny shook her head. "I know there are spells to direct other spells at a single person, and leave anybody else it touches unharmed," she said. This got his attention and he sat up a little as he looked down at her, an unreadable expression on his face. When she spoke, her voice cracked a little. "You can hurt me all you want, my Lord, but please don't hurt the baby."

Voldemort looked away for a second with an oddly rueful smile. "Why do you do this, Ginevra?" he asked, turning back to her.

Ginny blinked and a few tears escaped her eyes. "I just want to protect him," she said, barely audibly.

"Obviously," Voldemort muttered, a little contemptuously. He parted her robes and pushed the silk off her shoulders. He swept his gaze over her breasts which were clad in a cute, black bra. He kissed the top and center of her bosom once before pulling the bra down just a little and burying his face into the middle of her breasts, while massaging them through the bra with his hands. "There's no use," he muttered into her breasts. "I plan on killing him... You realize that, right?" He kissed her breasts and then sharply bit down on one and she cried out loud. "Anyways, I don't really feel like sharing these with anyone." He felt her whimper beneath him and her palms pressed a little deeper into his shoulders, but he responded by moving his hands beneath her, up her back and started to unclasp her bra without removing his face from the warmth of her chest.

"Your mother protected you." The words were hardly well-thoughtout, but Ginny suddenly figured that it was the only thing she could say. All mothers protect their children - it was as simple as that. She looked down at him and only saw the top of his head, but his breath against her breasts had become quite shallow and his hands had stopped moving.

She was suddenly afraid of his reaction - _why _does she let things slip out?

Voldemort got up from the couch then and turned to look down at her. The look in his eyes made her freeze. He was enraged. His charcoal eyes were tinted red... She hated that look. She hated it six years ago when she had to feel his wrath for displeasing him, and she hated it now... She unconsciously shrunk back into the couch. "My Lord..." she started, her voice pleading, but he cut her off.

"That foolish woman didn't have anything to protect me from," Voldemort growled.

At first, Ginny didn't understand what he meant, but it dawned on her. Her heart started pounding wildly as she realized what he had thought she meant. She looked up at him and slowly shook her head. "I wasn't comparing you to him," she whispered.

"No, you weren't," Voldemort said, his voice dangerously low and icy. His tone easily betrayed the words he just said. "_He _left _her. He_ let _her _die." He suddenly reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her up to her knees on the couch, ignoring her cries of pain and her own hands entwined in her hair, trying to lessen the pressure against her sculp. With his free hand, he cupped her chin. "Listen to me, Ginevra - I will _never _leave you. And I will never let you die." He paused and looked into her eyes for a second. "I don't have enough mercy." With that, he threw her back down to the couch and started stalking away.

Ginny fell back onto the couch and started sobbing into the cushion. Then, without thinking, she turned in the direction he had walked off in and blurted out, "You do!" She barely registered Voldemort stopping in his tracks and turning his head slightly so that he was looking at her over his shoulder. She curled up into the couch. "Six years ago. You left me. You let me die."

Voldemort slowly turned around and walked back to the couch, his steps agonizingly slow and deliberate. He sat down on the edge of the couch and leaned over her. He dragged his knuckles over the bottom of her stomach. "If I had known," he said, his lips brushing against hers. "I would never have put you in any danger." He moved his hand from the bottom of her stomach to her face and brushed some strands of hair out of her eyes before gently wiping a few tears away. Ginny looked up at him in surprise and confusion. "Regardless," he continued. "I never left you." He gently kissed her lips before getting up. His emotionless eyes met her pained and confused ones, and Voldemort inwardly started a bit. Whatever had passed through him in the last two minutes had to go... He looked down at her and gave her a small smirk. "Crucio modo Ginevra."

Unbelievable pain shot through her again, but Ginny suddenly noticed that there was no fluttering at the bottom of her stomach anymore. The realization was short lived before the curse dragged her attention away from her unborn child and to her searing flesh and screaming nerves. She closed her eyes against the pain and concentrated on the blackness she saw and breathing - she was getting breathless... Every inhale brought more pain to her... It would be so much easier to scream... She concentrated on the blackness around her and, after twenty agonizingly slow seconds, felt the cruciatus wear off. She gasped for breath as if she'd been held under water, and looked up at Voldemort, who was regarding her with a look of... satisfaction?... in his eyes.

"Well done, my Lady," he said, his voice even.

Ginny brushed her hands over the bottom of her stomach - it was still calm there. She looked up at him through watery eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.

Voldemort did not reply. He looked at her for a second before turning around and leaving the room.

xXxXxXx End Flashback xXxXxXx

Most of her Voldemort-related nightmares resulted in her screaming in her sleep and awaking in bed with a jolt. This time, however, Ginny's eyes opened slowly. The hospital room was dark with faint moonlight coming in through the open window. She caught sight of Luna, who was curled up on a couch, sleeping peacefully.

She lay back down and closed her eyes, letting her mind wander freely back to the dream she'd just had of what happened over a month ago. She had thanked him after he cast a crucio on her. She sighed out loud, not knowing how to feel about this. On one hand, she was amazed at what motherhood can make you do... On the other... She just hated the power he had held over her then.

Suddenly she felt something cold press into her neck and she brought a hand to it. Her fingers wrapped around something the size of a nickel and she pulled it off, but she felt the necklace it was attached to before she saw it. She wondered why Hermione hadn't removed it... The LMSH employed many muggle rules, one of which was that patients can not wear jewellery. She tried taking the necklace off, but found that she couldn't. It wasn't that it was too short... She tried again, but was, once again, unable to pull it over her head.

Confused, she looked at the pendant in her hand. Under the dim moonlight, she suddenly realized that it was a golden locket and that there was an elaborate S engraved into it. Of course... Merope Gaunt's locket. Tom had told her about it six years ago. Ginny looked at her hands. No ring. He'd chosen to give her a locket instead. This didn't bother her as much as she thought it would have, and this fact disturbed her greatly.

However - this, Voldemort obviously didn't know - it seemed a little fitting that she ended up with Merope Gaunt's locket. She and Ginny shared many similarities, after all. Like Merope, she had fallen in love with a man named Tom Riddle. Like Merope, her love was probably going to lead to her losing her child and her life. This made her so sad, it hurt inside.

Ginny stared at the S. Under the moonlight, she could see that there were circles lightly engraved around it... It was because of the way the gold had been cut. There was a small circle right beneath the S right in the centre, then a slightly bigger one around it, and another one around the second circle, a fourth around the third, etc., etc., getting bigger and bigger until they disappeared into the edge of the locket. The circles bothered her more than the S, but she couldn't figure out why. However she didn't want to see them or the S, so she flipped the locket around. The back was cut the same way as the front, however, and more circles glittered in the moonlight.

xXxXxXxXxXx

At exactly 11:30, there was a sharp knock at the sitting room door.

Voldemort glanced up from the book he was reading and briefly thought that the knock suited the man it belonged to - two sharp raps. Short, simple, to-the-point, and to anybody other than the Dark Lord himself, held as much an air of authority and menace that a knock could hold. Personally, the Dark Lord was looking forward to the conversation he would be having with him. "Enter."

The door flew open and his best spy entered, face expressionless and a little rigid. He stepped into the room, closed the door behind him and went down on one knee. "My Lord."

"Get up, Severus," Voldemort said, sounding almost amused. He gestured toward the mini-bar a few feet away from him. "You've had a long day, I'm sure. Get me a shot of gin while you're at it." After muttering a 'thank you,' which was brushed off by his the Dark Lord, Snape rose and went silently to the mini-bar. Voldemort let a few seconds pass in silence before looking up from his book again to regard Snape's reflection in the large, circular mirror behind the bar. "Do you have any idea as to why I called you here, Severus?"

Snape looked up into the mirror and spoke to the Dark Lord's reflection. "My appologies, Master. I do not."

"The past hour, I've been reliving an afternoon that occurred about a month ago. I have just had a bit of a revelation, and have come to the decision of giving you a new task."

Snape nodded into the reflection and poured a glass of gin, before sending it over with a 'wingardium leviosa.' Voldemort took the glass from the air and raised it briefly at the Potions Master, who did same with his glass of whiskey. Another moment passed before Snape looked back up to the mirror. "May I know what the task is, my Lord?"

Voldemort looked at the younger man's reflection and Snape thought that he looked highly amused. "Impatient, are we?" the Dark Lord asked. He looked at the Potions Master for a second. "I have a few questions for you to answer first, Severus. Then, we'll get to the task." Snape nodded into the reflection, no change appearing in his expression. This said something to the Dark Lord - most of his followers started cringing every time their Lord had questions for them, especially if they had something to hide. Not that he would tell anyone out loud, but Voldemort had developed a level of respect of Severus Snape that he had for very few other people. "Firstly," the Dark Lord paused and gulped down some of the gin. "Did you write your sectum sempra spell anywhere?"

Snape barely blinked. "Once, my Lord, when I was first developing it."

"And where did you write it down?"

"My old potions text."

"I see," Voldemort said. He thought back to Death Eater training methods and asked, "And you have taught it to others?"

"Yes, sir."

"You've never taught it to Ginevra?"

Snape raised an eye-brow in the reflection. "No, Sir." He wasn't lying.

"Very well." Voldemort looked into Snape's eyes in the reflection for a second. "How did you come to know of Ginevra's pregnancy?"

A look of puzzlement finally flickered in Snape's eyes. "My Lord?"

"You have done me a great favour by bring my attention to it, Severus. But now I'm starting to wonder how _exactly _you found out." Voldemort stared seriously into Snape's eyes in the mirror, and he saw the younger man grow a little uncomfortable.

"I've told you, my Lord, I read Granger's mind," Snape replied. "Her occlumency can be quite weak at times."

"Is that so? Ginevra confided her problems to her friend, and you just happened to read the mudblood's mind when she was thinking about it - at the luckiest moment possible - and you were able to figure out what was going on? Is _that _what happened?" His tone was sarcastic, and Snape was starting to grow uncomfortable. This didn't go unnoticed by the Dark Lord. Before the Potions Master could reply though, Voldemort waved the question off. "Answer this, then," he said, his voice soft. "Do you _know _how hard it is for an older Slytherin to seduce a young Gryffindor girl?"

At this, Snape outwardly looked taken back. His hand around his shot glass, Voldemort noted, was starting to turn a little white. "My Lord, I assure you, I - "

Voldemort held up a hand to silence him. The Dark Lord looked at the younger man's reflection intently. "Your new task is very much a pilot project, Severus. Get more information on Potter; _personal _information that we could use against him. I think you and I both know the best place to get it." Voldemort smirked inwardly as Snape finally tore his own charcoal black eyes away from the reflection and met the Dark Lord's black eyes full-on. "In answer to my previous question," he paused and looked thoughtful. "Personally, it took me two months to fully earn my Ginevra's trust." He caught Severus's gaze and held them. He then gave the younger man a small smirk. "However, I expect something from you by the end of the month... Because you _already _have the trust of your own little Gryffindor, haven't you?"

"My Lord?" Snape asked, still looking quite uncomfortable.

Voldemort looked at him, calculatingly, the small smirk still gracing his features and he gave the younger man a knowing look. "You, Severus... Have been sleeping with our favourite mudblood."

Snape closed his eyes and muttered something inaudible under his breath, but didn't try to deny it.

Voldemort continued. "Ginevra told... Hermione, I believe her name is?" At Severus' jerky nod, the Dark Lord continued. "Ginevra told Hermione, who found the information was too much of a burden, and wished, during her... time and activities with you... that she could tell you. Dear Hermione didn't want to betray her friend's trust, however, and didn't say a word, but what with _you _being a Master Legilimens and her being an amateur at occlumency..." He recieved another nod. "So you read her mind and brought the information to me." Yet another uncomfortable nod. "How amusing."

"My Lord, I - " Snape stopped at a loss for words, and almost looked a little sheepish under the amused, but disappointed (only the Dark Lord could pull off such a combination) look he recieved.

"And pray tell, why have I never known of this?" Voldemort asked. Something occurred to him and his eyes narrowed, suspiciously. "Does Dumbledore know?"

"I don't believe so, my Lord."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "And I have never known because...?"

Snape shrugged a little. "I didn't wish to bother your Lordship with such things?" He glanced up at the Dark Lord. "After all, I was under the impression that as long as I got my work done, how I did it was of no importance."

Voldemort eyed him for a second, and then slowly shook his head. "Perhaps," he muttered. He paused and raised an eye-brow at the younger man. "Let me tell you something, Severus. I was quite fond of Ginevra - I still am. It is perfectly fine to have fondness." Snape started a little - that was clearly the last thing he'd expected to hear. Nevertheless, the Potions Master looked a little sheepish and Voldemort knew he had hit the target - Snape had grown a little affectionate of her despite himself. The Dark Lord looked at the spy with a serious expression, his smirk gone to be replaced by a frown. "As long as, at any given moment, you can easily bring yourself to lure her into a dark, hidden chamber and leave her to be swallowed whole by a fearsome monster... It's perfectly fine to be fond of her."

Snape looked at him, face, once again, emotionless and Voldemort knew the message had been delivered. The Dark Lord nodded. "You are dismissed, Severus."

Snape bowed briefly before turning on his heel and exiting the room, robes billowing out behind him as he went. When the door closed, Voldemort turned his gaze to the glass in his hand, still half full of gin, and he was instantly reminded of Ginevra and started debating with himself. Would you? Would you be able to leave her in a dark chamber to die... again?

Yes.

Of course.

Voldemort felt something in his gut as a new question formed in his mind... Why had he paused before answering his own question?

Why?

He hurled the glass of gin to the circular mirror where it shattered and exploded into millions of specks of crystal and red. The mirror suffered as well... Only a crude crescent was left of the circle that had been there before.

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Author's Note:

Creatress: There, chapter four!! A long time coming, but there it is.

Gin: Needs more me.

Creatress: Shaddap.

Gin: That little essay you just wrote on the symbology of the Chamber of Secrets... Needs more me as well.

Creatress: Hm.

Gin: Where's Tom?

Creatress: Reading HeartofGlass's "His Darkened Heart," I believe... People say _I_ take long with my chapters.

Gin: Hey, hey - don't try to weasle your way out of this by comparison!! At least HeartofGlass gave us an actual wedding scene. It took you weeks to get this thing out with no wedding scene, so you have no excuse.

Creatress: What...?? Yeah... Sorry guys!! Now that school's done with, I promise to get out, at least, a chapter every week.

Gin: Right...

Creatress: Anyways, here are some replies to reviews that I couldn't send privately:

Angel in Disguise - Thank you for your reviews! I so love reading them. And thank you so much for the summary you gave me - the tone and wording suits the fic better. This fic needed a serious summary like that; you may have noticed that I don't always keep to the general tone. (Gin: Understatement of the year...) ... ... See? Yes, I'm sure the previous chapter raised a lot of questions, but hopefully, this one shed a light on many of the issues. I hope you enjoyed this one. Thank you again for your reviews. Say hi to your daughter for me.

Emma - Thanks for your review. Yeah, so far I've been quite vague about exactly what the child will be used for. You'll see in the next chapter.

lillo lolly - Ah crap... Umm... Thank you for the review... Err... Hanky? (Seriously, your review touched me).

Pherabaa - Sure, they may have gone out once or twice, but she couldn't get herself deeply attached to him. What with the baby and all, you know... So they just broke it. She even helped Luna get with him.

beautifulmadness - I love your name. And your review, but moreso your name. Lolz. I'm glad you loved the fic and I'm glad I changed the summary, too (hugs n kisses to Angel in Disguise!). Hope you enjoyed this last one.

Creatress: Okay, REVIEW!!! This time, I'll get it out after six reviews... You know, since I took a long time with the last chapter... (sheepish)


	5. 235 Newton Crescent

Disclaimer – I own nothing of the HP books or whatever associated, blada blada blada, you know the drill… I also don't own "an orb that ought be on his tomb speaks of rosy flesh and seeded womb."

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Author's Note:

Creatress: Okay, it's been five days. I have another two days until my deadline is due.

Gin: That's actually quite good, considering your work...

Creatress: ... Why are you being so understanding? ...

Gin: Because this chapter has very chilling, darkly intimate scenes and I thoroughly enjoyed reading them?

Creatress: Of course...

Tom: Hehehe...

Creatress: What?

Tom: I'm so evil...

Creatress: Yeah...

Warnings: Mentions underage sex. Mature themes... As in a bit of bestiality... And a lemon, guys - if you don't like, don't read Voldemort's flashback... I've warned you.

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Circles - Chapter 4

Ginny sat down on her bed and gazed around the room. It had two other single beds, just like hers, to her right. Hermione would be sleeping on the bed next to hers and Luna, on Hermione's other side. Ginny herself had the chosen the bed closest to the window... Her bed at the Bureau was placed just like this in aspect to the window of the room. The thought made her a quite sick and she forced herself not to think about it.

There was a large juniper tree just outside her window - apparantly, Luna had jumped from the sill to one of the branches and climbed down once, but had been too frightened to try it again. On one of the branches near the window, a red bird - Ginny didn't know what it was called... A "cardinal," perhaps? - was adjusting its nest, adding branches and leaves and making quite a cozy looking bed for it's three eggs, which were placed right in the center. Gently running her hand over her stomach, Ginny smiled softly and turned to look around the rest of the room.

The girls' room was simple - the three beds had wooden frames and white, linen sheets. Hardwood floorboards with a cream-coloured throw rug to match the creamy walls. White dressor, closet... So unlike To - Voldemort's room. Ginny shivered a little as a cool breeze swept through the window and sighed. Here, she actually felt a little more at home.

She'd never been here before though.

235 Newton Crescent. The Order's most newest safehouse.

Getting into it was a lot like getting into Grimmauld Place, but a little different. They had apparated to the front of house, which stood simply and innocently among the other houses on the Crescent. However, to onto the front porch and any area passed the porch to the end of the backyard, you needed a password. Or pass sentences in this case - Ginny had been passed a piece of paper with "An orb that ought be on his tomb speaks of rosy flesh and seeded womb" and was able to step onto the porch when she conjured an image of those words in her mind.

It had been Hermione's sentences, and they confused Ginny, but because she had just entered a house her youngest older brother was in, she hadn't wanted to ask questions about or think about anything pertaining to "seeded wombs."

Since she'd gotten there that morning, she'd been given a quick tour of the three-story high house, but then she'd stayed in her room and never ventured out. The few other members she'd met had been quite uncomfortable around her and their eyes kept flicking to her stomach the way they did to Harry's scar whenever they first met him. Hermione and Luna were the only ones who spoke to her as if nothing was happening out of the ordinary and she was extremely grateful for that or she'd have gone crazy by now. But the way some people were acting around her shocked her...

Tonks had been the first person who'd come up to her. She'd just opted to give her a small smile, ask her how she was feeling, make small talk and steered clear of the issue of her pregnancy. Actually, her behaviour was also welcome.

Harry. Someone who'd been a good friend to her had to have a firm talking to by both Hermione and Luna before seeing her. He'd hugged her, a little hesitantly as if she would break if he touched her, then looked at her stomach before meeting her eyes. The first words he said to her were "Ginny... I will kill him." Ginny had sighed a little. 'Of course, you will, Harry... Not for this though.' This is just another reason on Harry's endless list of "Why Kill Voldemort."

Even Snape had been more barable. When she, Hermione and Luna had run into him, she had stiffened, waiting for some crude comment or another, but it didn't come. The Potions Master barely looked at her, ignoring her as always, before throwing Hermione an oddly contemplating look and walking away. Hermione, Ginny had then noticed, had gone a little white and was staring stoically at the carpet. The redhead had turned to Luna with a questioning look on her face, but Luna had just given her a "I'll tell you later" look... Ginny frowned. She still had no idea what was happening.

Remus... Cool, calm, collected Remus just started stuttering nervously around his words, afraid he'll say something to hurt her. On one hand, she thought she should feel grateful that he cared about her feelings, but really she felt like telling him to get over it... That after everything she'd been through, mere words weren't going to hurt her.

A _lack _of words on the other hand... Silence can do damage. Ron was at the house and was avoiding her like the plague. Ginny shook her head and willed herself not to think about him.

She turned her thoughts to herself and her baby. She thought her stomach was growing a little larger. Her clothes didn't feel any tighter or anything, but she just had a feeling. Her wand had been in the pocket of the cloak she'd been wearing the night Voldemort had brought her back, but she just didn't feel like measuring herself. She had almost performed a spell to see if it was a boy or a girl, but then decided against it, opting to wait and see if her mothering instincts had been right after she'd actually given birth.

All of a sudden, the door opened and Luna entered. The blonde gave her a small smile before turning to close the door. "How are you doing? It must be terribly boring in here, but you've stayed couped up all day," she started blabbering.

Ginny decided to ignore the question. "What happened to Hermione?" she asked, flatly.

Luna turned back around and bit her lower lip a little. "I was hoping you'd forgotten," she mumbled.

Ginny scrunched her eye-brows and looked at her friend, curiously. "Why?" she asked. "What's happened?"

Luna walked in and sat down on the edge of Hermione's bed and looked at her. "After you got kidnapped, she was in a lot of trouble. You know, for hiding your pregnancy." Ginny nodded, stiffening a little, and Luna noticed. "Oh, it is isn't your fault," she said quickly. "None of it is. It's just that... After you got kidnapped, Snape's loyalties were given away when he didn't help the Death Eaters by taking down the Kardrik Wall. You know, he could've cast any spell at it and it would have been down. Now, his missions are even more dangerous apparantly. Voldemort doesn't trust him anymore... Anyways, Snape went ballistic and basically blamed Hermione." Luna winced a little here. "They had a screaming row about it at Hogwarts, and - stay calm here, Gin - and he hit her - _Gin!"_

Ginny was on her feet and furiously making her way toward the door. She paid no attention to Luna, who was right behind her, trying to talk some sense into her, and blazed into the corridor. "That bastard!" the redhead snapped, still walking purposely down the hallway. "None of it was Mione's fault - she - she - " Ginny stopped where the corridor split into two and briefly wondered where the lab was. Remembering, she started walking again.

"I know, but it's over and done with," Luna returned.

Ginny stopped and spun around so quickly, Luna almost walked into her. "Over and done with?!" she snapped. "He _hit _her!"

"I know, Gin, but just let Mione deal with it," Luna breathed. "They're at the lab now, working on something. It's tense, but it's civil. The Order really needs this new potion; just leave them to it." She paused. "Seriously, Gin, it's angering me, too. But bursting in on them now won't help anything. As soon as they're finished, if you still want to raise hell, I'll accompany you."

Ginny took a few deep breaths, and thought about what Luna was saying. Yes, bringing this up now when they were supposed to be working together would cause problems. She looked at Luna and was about to say something when -

"Gin!"

Ginny's stomach lurched and she spun around. Before she could react, she was entangled in Charlie's arms. Somewhere off to her right, she saw Luna smile and leave to give the siblings some privacy.

"Gods, I've missed you so much," Charlie was saying. "I thought we'd never see you again."

Ginny felt her eyes burning - it felt so good to have a family member treat her like she was welcome and loved again. She let out a choked sob.

Charlie let her go and looked at her. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named... He said you did it willingly, six years ago?"

Dread starting to creep in on her feeling of elation, she let a few more tears fall and nodded, unable to lie to her brother.

Charlie, however, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they started walking. "It's alright - you never knew."

Ginny nodded and a moment passed in silence.

"Did he ever say why he married you?"

Ginny shook her head. "He never said anything about it," she gasped. "I suppose he just didn't want a bastard or something." She choked. "You don't know how much I hate him... How much I hate myself." She started crying. "Oh, Gods, Charlie, my child..."

"You're going to keep it?" Charlie asked.

"I just keep thinking that it's not his fault," Ginny whispered. "Why should he die for a crime he never committed?"

"Of course..." Charlie murmured.

"Voldemort wants to kill him," Ginny said, suddenly.

"What?"

"He wants to kill him. It's part of a ritual for him to become completely invincible."

"But he's already immortal," Charlie pointed out.

"Hermione and Luna say that's not the same as invincibility."

Charlie frowned, his face grim. "He would kill his own child for power?"

"He killed his own father for revenge. Why wouldn't he kill his own child for power?"

Charlie didn't reply. They walked for a few moments of silence when Ginny looked up at him. "How are Mum and Dad?" she whispered.

Charlie didn't reply to this either. He turned away.

"The others?" Ginny asked, her voice soft. Charlie said nothing, but pulled her closer and held her as she sobbed quietly. "They hate me."

"They don't hate you," Charlie said, quickly. "They hate what you'd done. Something they'll realize you'd done unknowingly. They'll come around."

Ginny almost snorted, bitterly. She pulled away a little and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Gin... I have to go to Diagon Alley with Remus to pick up a few things... Will you be alright?" Charlie asked, sounding uncertain.

Ginny nodded.

"Are you sure?" her brother asked.

"Go," she said. She looked up at him and smiled softly. "I think I'd like to be alone right now."

Charlie nodded and kissed her forehead before leaving.

Ginny slowly walked along more corridors, not paying attention to where she was going and lost in thought until suddenly, she found herself outside the potions' lab door. Her mind being dragged away from her family and to Hermione, she frowned. She stepped up to the door, and without knocking, gently pushed it open a crack. The room was entirely dark and the only light came from a small cauldron. The blue bell flames beneath it gave off a aqua light and the potion itself glowed green. Ginny pushed the door fully open, frowning. The room was completely empty. Where were they?

Then she suddenly heard a gasp, so soft she thought she'd imagined it. Then she saw another door at the other end of the room. Stepping carefully and quietly, she quickly made her way to it and crouched down to the keyhole. She didn't want to risk looking through it - if Snape was in there, he would notice. Getting her ear as close as possible to it, she could hear what was being said inside.

"...I know." Hermione. She was talking softly, her voice whispery. "It must have been difficult for you."

"You know I hate it." Snape. Another pause. His voice then grew low and Ginny could barely make out what was being said. "... taking it out on you..."

"Please stop," Hermione suddenly said, her voice shallow, and Ginny felt her blood run a little cold. What was going on in there?! She was about to get up and go in when she heard Hermione say, "Not in here..."

Ginny froze. She thought she heard Snape say something, but couldn't figure out what.

"I wanted to tell you," Hermione suddenly said.

"You should have; it would have saved us a lot of trouble," Snape replied.

There was silence for a second.

And then, Hermione. "Why has he brought her back?"

Snape chuckled a little, and it was dry. "Where have your wits gone, Hermione? Why do you think?"

"Is the child a danger to him? He to the child?" Hermione guessed. There was a pause. "The spell has a circle, Riddle Sr.'s bones, Voldemort's own bones and those of his child's..." When Hermione spoke next, she spoke slowly as if piecing things together. "Voldemort's own father was absent during Merope Gaunt's pregnancy..."

"Exactly."

There was another silence as both Ginny and Hermione considered this.

"When exactly will he come back for her then?" Hermione asked.

"After the child is born," was the prompt answer.

There was a silence for a moment.

"It's all happening again... The Riddles, I mean..." Hermione's voice trailed off.

Ginny pressed herself up against the door, a little lost now. What was all happening again?

"Will he try to kill Gin?" Hermione suddenly asked. "After the child is born? I mean, Merope died..."

Snape didn't answer for a second. "Perhaps," he said. "He is not in a good mood right now."

There was another long silence.

"I worry..." Hermione said, her voice soft again.

"I'm sure the Order will protect her well," Snape replied.

"I know," Hermione said. "I meant you." Another silence. "What will happen to you? Must you go this afternoon?"

Snape didn't reply, and Ginny suddenly felt a slight tingle shoot through her right forearm. A milisecond later, she heard Hermione let out an frightened gasp. "Sev - "

"I suppose I'll be going this instant," Snape said, his voice venemous. Obviously his left arm had started to burn... There was a scuffle and Ginny wondered if he would come out... Order members could apparate out of 235 Newton Crescent. When Snape spoke next, his voice was softer and almost affectionate. "I'll return to you tonight. I promise." There was a moment of silence and then a sharp crack of someone apparating. But only one...

Ginny didn't wait long before hearing Hermione let out a strangled sob. She briefly entertained the idea of going inside to talk to her, but that would mean admitted that she'd been listening in and Hermione wouldn't recieve that very well. Silently, Ginny got up and left the room as quickly and quietly as possible. Obviously, Snape and Hermione had gotten over their fight... And then some.

Exitting the lab and closing the door behind her, Ginny started a little as the full weight of what she'd just heard settled on her. Her bestfriend and her professor. How much older was he than her...? Twenty years...? But then another voice in her asked drily asked her, 'and Tom - no, Voldemort - is how much older than you? Fifty-three years? Fifty-four?' And Snape and Voldemort looked the same age... Actually, they just looked a little alike, as well - both tall, toned and muscular, with raven black hair, pale skin and charcoal eyes... She briefly wondered if they were related...

"Gin?"

Ginny started a little and turned to face Hermione, who'd obviously just stepped out of the lab. "Hermione," Ginny said, by way of a greeting. "Umm... How are you feeling?"

The brunette closed the door behind her and looked at Ginny, curiously. "I'm fine... Why?"

Ginny shook her head. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Hermione hesitated for a short milisecond, but Ginny caught it - the brunette couldn't lie on the spot to save her life. Finally making her decision, Hermione met Ginny's eyes and looked a little appologetic before turning away. "No," she said.

Ginny sighed a little. "Fair enough," she murmured, speaking to the wall over Hermione's shoulder. It wasn't like Ginny herself had poured out all of her feelings about Tom Riddle to Hermione...

"What?" Hermione asked, turning back to meet Ginny's gaze, her own brown eyes washed with confusion.

The two looked at each other for a second, and the air became a little akward. This had never happened before and it scared and pained both of them, but Ginny felt more heavyhearted than Hermione. Some things they kept personal, yes, but nothing this big... Ginny had told Hermione about her crush on Harry, her pregnancy, etc, etc... Anything that would matter. The fact that Hermione would hide something like this made Ginny feel as if Hermione wasn't any closer to her than any of the other Order members at Da Vinci Crescent.

"Nothing," Ginny mumbled.

"Girls." Hermione and Ginny both inwardly sighed, thankful for Luna's entrance. The blonde however figured something was wrong as soon as she reached them. She eyed the two. "What is it?"

Hermione shook her head and Ginny muttered that it was nothing. Ginny suddenly wondered if Luna knew about Snape, and looked up at the blonde, who was studying Hermione, quizically. Hermione, who hated lying to her friends, was staring uncomfortably at the floor.

"Um... Mi?" Luna suddenly asked. She gestured at the side of her neck.

Raising her eyebrows in question, Hermione reached up to her own neck and felt the small spot her friend had gestured to. The muggleborn turn a little red then. "I... I think I'm going to go to the library for a bit," Hermione announced and scarpered away.

"What happened?" Luna asked Ginny when Hermione was gone.

"Do you know?" Ginny asked.

"Know what?" Ginny didn't reply but stared after the direction Hermione had gone in and Luna followed her gaze. "Did you two just have a fight?"

Ginny shook her head.

"Was... Was she in there with someone?" Luna asked, a little hesitantly.

Ginny turned to her, shocked and... Feeling a little glad, actually. That she hadn't been the only one who hadn't known. That she hadn't been cut off from her friends. Her heart felt _much _lighter...

"Had she?" Luna asked, again. Then she shook her head. "You don't have to tell me if Hermione had sworn you to secrecy - "

"She hadn't," Ginny interrupted, almost smiling. "I just thought I was the only one who hadn't known." She paused. "It was - "

Luna held up a hand. "Don't," she suddenly said. She smiled a little. "If Hermione doesn't want us to know, then I don't want to know." She paused and laughed, a little softly. "Besides, I have my suspicions."

Late that afternoon, the three girls, and Tonks were sitting in the living room playing Cheat! when there was a cracking sound outside, followed by two sharp raps against the front door. Tonks turned around to see who it was, and Ginny and Luna noticed Hermione suddenly sit up straighter. Remus opened the door to let Snape in, and as soon as he entered, Tonks and Luna turned their full attention back to their cards. Hermione also looked back to her cards, glancing up once in a while at the Potions Master, who waited before Remus turned away before catching her gaze and giving her a small smirk before turning away. The two were totally unaware that Ginny had been aware of the whole exchange.

Trying to keep from laughing, the redhead turned to Luna, who was staring at her cards, face completely straight. Ginny inwardly groaned - Luna had missed it.

"Two kings," Luna said, putting down her two cards.

"One Ace," Hermione promptly replied, placing it down.

"Cheat," Luna stated.

Hermione looked at her, bewildered. "You've been calling my bluffs all day!" she whined. She started to pick up her cards. "How did you know?" she asked.

"I always know, Hermione," Luna replied, breezily. She then caught Ginny's gaze and gave her a small wink.

Ginny then did something she hadn't done once for the last few months - she burst out laughing.

Ginny's mood lasted the rest of the game. Even Luna couldn't keep a straight face after five minutes of Ginny's constant snickering. Tonks had looked at them, puzzled, but the look they recieved from Hermione was void of any kind of confusion. Tonks had a dinner date with Remus that night and after she'd left, Hermione threw her cards down onto the table.

"Now, Mi, you're making it quite easy," Luna murmured, eyeing the brunette's cards, which had all landed face up.

Hermione ignored her. "Should I be glad you're fine with it or be pissed off that you know?! Pick one!" she snapped.

Ginny and Luna glanced at each other, before bursting into laughter again. After a few moments of feigned glowering, Hermione also started laughing.

Life felt normal again... She was home, surrounded by her friends. She was happy... Nothing could destroy this feeling.

Tom, Voldemort, the Dark Lord - couldn't hurt her. He'd left her.

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Later that night, Ginny finished dinner early and started making her way up to her room when she passed by the boys' room. The door was open a crack.

"He's happy - I hate this feeling," she heard Harry say.

Ginny stopped short.

"What do you mean?" Ron's voice came.

"I don't know; I just don't like it," Harry replied. "Nothing good can come of Voldemort being happy, right?"

"_Harry_!" Ron hissed.

"Get over it, Ron!" Harry snapped. "Even Ginny's saying his name now - "

"Ginny's been screaming it, too, I reckon - " Ron started, his voice thick with hatred.

Ginny felt something heavy drop into her stomach, and suddenly felt dizzy.

"Ron," Harry growled, clearly frustrated. He didn't try to rebute it though. "I have to figure out why he's feeling so... _Gleeful_."

Ginny hadn't heard that last bit... She was already rushing toward her room, trying to keep herself from crying. She'd run into the bedroom, closed the door and thrown herself onto her bed before letting her tears spill. After almost half an hour of crying into her pillow, she finally stopped out of fatigue.

She forced herself to get up and change into a sheer white nightgown before climbing back into bed and staring tiredly out the window. It wasn't nearly as dark out there as it was in the room - the house was muggle-built and had lightswitches, but she hadn't turned the lights on when she'd come in. It was pitch black inside, but outside, a large crescent moon gave off a surreal light.

In the moonlight, Ginny could make out the shape of the bird and frowned. She wasn't perched on her eggs like she should have been - she was hopping around nervously, flitting here and there, all over the branch. It was clear that something had her scared and restless. Ginny squinted a little and looked closer at the branches. Finally, she caught sight of what had the bird spooked and started a little herself.

A long, dark snake was wound along a branch further up in the tree, but was sliding down the trunk and closer to the nest.

Ginny was frozen. She shouldn't have been bothered, but she was scared. The bird and her eggs didn't have a chance... She didn't understand why she thought this, but she knew she was right.

The snake had just gotten to the branch with the nest and was sliding along it. About two feet from the nest, it twisted its body around the branch a few times, before standing upright and looking down at the bird and her nest. The bird flittered helplessly around her eggs.

Time seemed to stand stll as a moment passed by with no moveent or sound.

Ginny then started to go for her wand on the dressor when the snake moved. She almost screamed, but then saw that the snake had lowered its head to hang off the branch. As the bird and the girl watched in stunned silence, the snake started sliding down lower...

The bird and her children were safe... For now...

Ginny lay back down, closed her eyes and let herself fall back into an uneasy sleep.

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From the branches of the juniper, the snake watched Ginny close her eyes and sleep for a few minutes. He glanced once at the bird, who was now perched upon her eggs, peaceful but still weary of his presence. He scowled a little, but quickly brought his mind back to more important matters. He turned back to the sleeping redhead and smirked, slyly before serpentining closer to the window sill.

It was now quite late and the snake would not be disturbed. The whole population of the house had retreated to their beds or to the beds of lovers.

Ginny's blonde friend had presented some interesting information to the snake when she'd crawled into Potter's bed a while ago. They had talked some - Potter had complained about how his bestfriend snored, and how his scar hurt, and how he was afraid, and blah blah blah before the two drifted off to sleep... But now the snake knew that Potter had a girlfriend.

The other one... Hermione... had been whisked away to Spinner's End a few moments ago and would not be back until morning.

The snake reached the end of the branch and encircled it with his tail end before standing erect and arching over so that his head reached the window sill. Then, he easily slid down the wall and into the room.

Outside, thick clouds passed over the moon and plunged the whole world into darkness.

The snake slithered up the bed post at the foot of the bed and up onto the sheets. Her blanket was folded and at the foot of the bed; she hadn't bothered pulling it over her. She was lying on her back, one hand resting at the top of her stomach and the other under the pillow. Her crimson hair was spread under her head, shoulders and back and half of her locks lay wildly over the pillow and over her shoulders. One lock had fallen free of the others and had fallen over her shoulder and on top of her breasts - it was this lock, it's dark red contrasting sharply with the white gown - that the snake focussed on and watched as it moved up and down with the rise and fall of her chest.

The even rises and falls were interrupted when she suddenly gasped in her sleep. Her hand that was under her came out and clutched a fistful of the bedsheets and she tossed again. The snake watched, intrigued and a little amused. He would have chuckled out loud at what happened next. The girl inhaled sharply and murmured a name... A name he'd once gone by.

The snake bent it's head and placed it on top of her white-clad knee, but then thought better of it. He got back up and went down on top of her foot, stopping briefly to flick his tongue over her ankle. She jerked her ankle once in reaction, but didn't come even close to waking up. He, however, got a lot out of that small lick - she was scared... And... He breathed in her scent, and had a good idea of what she was dreaming about. The girl was afraid and just a little aroused... This didn't surprise him. Her Lord frightened her, yes, that was given, but he also drove her to the edge of sanity with the pain and pleasure he caused her.

The snake shuddered a little at the thought and slid under her gown and up her leg. The snake paused inches away from her womanhood and smiled wickedly. He inched closer and nudged her lingerie to the side with his head and flicked his tongue at her clitoris. He instantly felt her writhe under him and moan his old name. At this, he stopped... He was not going to allow her any pleasure, believing that it was _Tom Riddle _who was causing it.

He let her panties slid back into place as he slithered up the rest of her body, having to force himself not to stop at her breasts when he crawled through them, and met the cool night air as he slithered out from under her gown at it's neckline.

He lay his head down beside her head, right beside her ear and hissed into her ear. "_Ginevra..._" She reacted by turning toward him a little. He found it intriguing that she understood parseltongue in her sleep. "_Does my Regina want her Lord?_" She let out a frightened gasp and were he human, he would have chuckled a little.

"No..." She moaned, barely coherantly.

"_Yes..._"

She shook her head once and a tear managed to escape the corner of her eye. He got up a little and caught it with a flick of his tongue. Wordlessly, he slithered to the edge of the bed.

In a split second, the snake was gone and was replaced by a man.

Voldemort was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing black trousers and a black shirt. He ran his hand through his dark hair once before turning to look at his wife with a lazy smirk. He brushed the lock of hair off her chest and over her shoulder before leaning over to press his lips to hers. She gasped into his mouth and he chuckled. He loved that she was reacting to his presence even though she was deep asleep.

He got up and with a flick of his wand, the door was bolted shut. Another flick and dark black robes had appeared around him. He then looked her over, black eyes glittering red in the darkness. He caught her right upper arm and dragged his hand down, pressing firmly as it passed over the Dark Mark, and she cried out a little. He then pulled her a little closer to the edge of the bed before crouching down so that their faces were level. He softly entangled his left hand in her hair and started to run his fingers through it. He pressed his face into the side of her head so he spoke against her cheek.

"Did you think I'd left you?" he asked, softly. She moaned a little, her voice soft. "Just because I haven't been around for the last few days, did you think I had abandoned you? I told you..." She turned toward him in her sleep and he whispered the next words against her lips. "My dear wife, I will never leave you." She turned away, breathing heavily. "I'm taking you home soon, my Lady. Until then, just sleep." He kissed the corner of her eye and her cheek. "Just sleep, and pretend that your dreams... Pretend that everything I do to you... That every word, every touch..." He moved his hand from her hair, down her throat and and over her chest. "That all the pain I inflict upon you and every ounce of pleasure I allow you... Pretend that not of it is real. Pretend that this is all just some sweet nightmare, and try to find some peace in that, my Lady... But rest assured... It is all real."

xXxXxXx

Ginny started awake and sat up in her bed, hearting pounding wildly. She looked around the room. She was alone... Luna and Hermione weren't there, but neither was Voldemort... Had she been dreaming?... But he'd told her that it was all real... Unless she'd dreamed of him telling her that - that would mean everything was a dream... Thinking about it made her head hurt and she closed her eyes and brought her hands to her forehead.

Ginny had been started awake by her nightmares before. She'd woken up sweating, panting, crying... She had even woken up covered in blood... She had never screamed before.

But when she opened her eyes, she saw something that made her scream loud enough to wake the whole house... She didn't stop screaming until the room was flooded in light and Luna had taken her into her arms and dragged her out, leaving the other Order members to stare in horror at the sight before them.

On the wall under the window sill, the Dark Mark was drawn neatly in dark red blood...

It wasn't Ginny's blood, though...

Around the Dark Mark... On the wall and on the floor beneath it... Pieces of underdeveloped pink flesh... Small, broken pieces of white shells... Red feathers.

The juniper tree stood still outside, it's branches bare and void of any kind of life.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

"We have to find a new place to hide her," Dumbledore stated.

"Of course, Albus," McGonagall concurred. "But shouldn't we at least try to figure out how he managed to get into Newton Crescent?"

"It may have been a Death Eater - we don't know it was him," Dumbledore mumbled.

McGonagall stared at him. "What are you talking about?" she asked, incredulous. "If a Death Eater had done it, he certainly would have been able to!"

Dumbledore didn't reply for a second. "This is completely out of the sudden on so many different levels..."

"Miss Weasley said she saw him... I realize she thought she was dreaming, but all of her activities during her second year were brushed off as dreams, weren't they?" McGonagall asked. "May I remind you how that ended?"

"Can we please look at the more puzzling aspects of this incident?" Flitwick asked. The short wizard looked up at the other Order members in the headmaster's office - Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Lupin, Tonks, Moody and Shacklebolt. "If he knew where she was, why would he announce his knowledge to the Order? Wouldn't it be easier to simply watch and wait until she gives birth, then burst in announced to abduct the mother and the child? Or wait until Harry falls asleep and murder him?"

"We believe he entered from the girls' window... The boys' window was locked - Mr. Weasley made an uproar about not being able to stand the night's cold a few days ago and locks it every night with his own magic so that none of the other boys could open it," Shacklebolt muttered, thoughtfully. "That could have been why He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named didn't murder Potter that night. As for why he chose to let us know that not only does he know where we are, but is able to enter is intriguing..."

"Perhaps..." Snape mused out loud. "The ritual he wants to perform with the child has strict requirements. What if it has to be born at a certain place... Perhaps he _wants _us to move?"

"Move where, then? How would he influence where we would move to?" Lupin asked. He shook his head. "Newton Crescent should have been our safehouse - "

"Exactly," Shacklebolt interrupted. "It was our safehouse. How exactly did he find it and bring down the wards? Only Order members could enter and exit as they please, and even then, we can only enter through the front door to reach the rest of the property." He eyed all the others in the room. "There is somebody in the Order who is working against us," he stated. "And if what Snape says is right, than that somebody may also be able to influence us to move wherever You Know Who wants us to move."

There was a moment of silence as each pondered this. Finally, Tonks asked, "Ginny was alone in her room that night?"

"Yes," came the prompt reply from Shacklebolt.

"Where were Luna and Hermione?" Tonks asked. Tonks didn't blink under everyone's questioning looks. "It just seems a little strange that both girls were conveniently out of the way when You Know Who broke in."

"Miss Lovegood was... with Potter," Moody said. He paused and narrowed his eyes as he thought. "I don't seem to recall where Ms. Granger was." He looked up at the others, waiting for someone to step up with information.

Remus suddenly straightened and looked around the room. "What?" he asked, quietly. "Someone must have seen her last night."

"I saw her last night," Snape suddenly stated. He ignored the questioning looks he recieved. "I believe we should move onto more pressing matters, like the location of where we're going to keep Miss Weasley next and deal with how Voldemort managed to get into Newton Crescent later. They're all over there right now - I wonder why we have left them there when he could come back at any moment."

"Curiously enough, I don't remember seeing you last night either," Moody suddenly said, looking at Snape.

Shacklebolt suddenly snorted, quietly, and after Moody glanced at him, gave the Potions Master a pointed look over Moody's shoulder.

Snape threw Shacklebolt a mildy grateful expression before rounding on Moody. "Are you trying to imply that I or Ms. Granger let Voldemort in last night, Moody?"

Moody raised his eyebrows, and then, after quickly turning his magical eye over the expressions of the some of the other Order members, shook his head, figuring that whatever was amiss was benign.

Snape then turned back to Dumbledore. "Any suggestions?"

Dumbledore looked from Snape to Shacklebolt and back again before actually giving the Potions Master a small smile. "At least something's going well," the headmaster mumbled quietly. He ignored the scathing look he recieved from the Potions Master then and continued. "We must talk about how Voldemort found her. You are right when you say we must move her as quickly as possible, Severus, but if we don't discuss this now, he would find her again." He looked up at the others. "It will be no use jumping quickly to theories of spy work... Any ideas as to how he may have found her another way?"

"He had someone follow one of us as we came and went?" Tonks asked, pondering out loud.

"You can't follow an apparating person," Shacklebolt pointed out.

"No," Tonks agreed. "The floo network, however..."

"The house isn't connected to the floo network at all time. It's connection is only activated when an Order member throws the dust in from inside the house," Dumbledore said. "However, the floo - "

"Quiet," Snape suddenly stated. He closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate.

A moment passed in silence as they all studied him, curiously.

Lupin finally leaned forward. "Sever - " But, Snape held up a hand to silence him, his brow furrowing a little.

After another moment, Snape finally opened his eyes and scowled. "I've figured it out," he muttered. "He watched our minds."

Dumbledore closed his eyes as realization struck him. "Of course," he muttered. "How could we have made such an error?"

"I don't understand," Remus said. He turned to Severus. "What just happened?"

"Ms. Granger had just entered the house. I was reading her mind."

"What - ?" Remus started.

"You see, Voldemort is a master legilimens. Severus has only perfected this skill a few weeks ago, but like Voldemort, he too can now see into certain minds without looking into the eyes of the person he's trying to read," Dumbledore explained. "We left the house in plain view, believing that we wouldn't need to hide it. Voldemort simply waited for Ms. Weasley to appear in front of the house. He watched her mind remember the house, thus finding its location. And the way we've passed the secret sentence on to our members was less than intelligent as well... The pass sentence... He wasn't able to break into Grimmauld Place because we never had to conjure the actual words into our minds' eyes - we just had to think them. But he watched the words appear inside her head and learned them." He held his head with his hands and massaged them. "How could we have made such a mistake?"

A moment passed in silence as everyone considered this.

"Well..." Snape finally said. "We know what we need to do next time. The next safehouse we send them to, we send as few people as possible. Of the few people, we pick one or two to tell the location of the house to and let this person hold onto the others while they apparate there. Anybody else doesn't even get a hint as to where they are." He paused. "Or we can just make a portkey - your choice, Albus, but I believe that having one or two people know the address could prove to be safer than a bunch of lost imbeciles." He started pacing, slowly. "Either way, we don't tell Ms. Weasley - we know he can read her mind from afar."

"Why wouldn't he just read someone else's mind?" Tonks suddenly asked.

"Because we can only read _certain _minds - not everybody's," Snape replied. He continued. "And to play it safe, the person who will decide where we move next will be the only one to decide with no suggestions from anyone else. Personally, I believe there's only one such man we can _all_ trust." He then turned to the headmaster.

"I have no objections to Severus' plan," Dumbledore suddenly stated. "Does anybody else have anything to add?"

None of other Order members replied.

Dumbledore then nodded. "That's what we shall do then. I already know where we go next..."

xXxXxXxXxXx

Voldemort sat in the armchair in his bedroom, feeling a little bored... He missed Ginny. He smirked a little as he thought of his wife.

Ginny hadn't been willing that first time Voldemort had first come to her. Well, actually, she had, but that was six years ago. After learning his true identity and being kidnapped, she had been much less eager to please him. He hadn't minded much though... He liked it when she fought. However, he liked it equally as much when she started reacting to him.

Even six years ago, he liked it when she squirmed beneath him because of their sizes and tried moving away from him every time she felt a wave of pain she couldn't handle. He also liked it that she always got over it and that she had always come back... What wouldn't he have liked it? He was man - he liked having a toy available and at his beck and call twenty-four hours a day.

Now...

Her third night with him, he had been gentler... He'd just come out of a battle with a few aurors in Little Hangleton. Literally, come out of a battle with a few aurors. The fight had been long and hard, but the captured had been tortured and interrogated and had revealed useful information so he'd been in a pleasant and generous mood...

xXxXx flashback xXxXxXx

The Dark Lord apparated tiredly into his room to find Ginny asleep, the sheets pulled tightly around her. In the dark room, he saw that she was completely covered, and the sheets did a lot to flatten her curves beneath the blanket, but he felt himself harden, his fatigue forgotten. Walking up to her, he none-too-gently pulled the sheets off her before climbing into bed. Pulling her into his arms, he started to kiss her throat gently instead of commencing with a ravanous attack that he was used to doing. Soon, she woke up. She was disoriented at first, and wrapped her arms around his neck, but didn't let him go after she fully woke up. A few moments of lying perfectly still and letting him do whatever he wanted, she started to react to him.

Her gestures were subtle, but they came more and more often as the night wore on. At first, she gently ran her fingers through his dark hair as he ran his lips over her neck and chest, and she periodically grasped it tightly whenever he bit down to leave his mark on her. She hadn't complained when he murmured a quick 'divesto' to get rid of her nightgown - red; he wouldn't have missed it - and had arched her back to let him get at her black bra to take it off.

Then came what had surprised him... She had not met his gaze once during the entire night and had chosen to either close her eyes or stare at his chest. When he left her bare breasts to kiss her face again, she reached up and cautiously ran her hands down the front of his robes, and then looked up at him with an expression that clearly asked permission. He smirked down at her and she gently pushed his robes off his shoulders, before turning her attention to the buttons on his shirt. He'd stopped what he was doing then, and almost absentmindly run his fingers up and down her sides to let her go on and simply watch and see how far she was going to go...

Her change in behaviour surprised him, but he wasn't about to stop and question it... Whatever it was, he would think about it in the morning...

She undid the buttons of his shirt and pushed them off his shoulders as well. He even helped her along a little by sliding it off his arms. She then wrapped her arms around his neck again and pulled her closer to him before gently kissing his chest. He shuddered in pleasure a little before gaining control again. Another divesto and the rest of her lingerie was gone.

He parted her legs with one hand and, unexpectedly, forced his index and middle fingers of his other hand into her wet, but tight vagina.

She had cried out and whimpered under him then, and he reconsidered his unexpected his intrusion.

After all, she was being a good girl tonight and deserved a reward...

A little grudgingly, he gently pulled his fingers out of her, resisting the urge to push them in again and fingerfuck her into screaming in pain and then eventually in pleasure.

Instead, he gently kissed away a tear that had escaped before moving lower to place his face between her legs. Wordlessly, he kissed and licked the area around her slit, wickedly avoiding entering her with his tongue or touching her clitoris. She writhed and her breathing became shallow. The Dark Lord could feel the heat radiate off her as she became more wet, and resisted the overwhelming urge to enter her now and pound away at her until they both collapsed.

Climbing back over her so that his face was level with hers, he pressed his lips to hers and felt her upper teeth leave her lower lips - this wasn't new. Biting her lower lips to keep from making any noise - in either pain or pleasure - was an old habit of hers. Running his tongue along her lips, he started to gently massage her breasts and playfully rub her erect nipples with his thumb. He noticed that she was barely breathing, trying to keep from moaning now that she couldn't bite on her tongue or lip to keep from making noise. Her tongue was now moving around the Dark Lord's mouth as his own explored hers. Then, a little unexpectedly, Voldemort moved away.

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against her own. When he spoke, her own eyes fluttered shut and she concentrated on his lips as they moved against hers. "Do you want me?" he asked, quietly, his voice even and not the least bit mocking as it usually was whenever he asked her this. He felt her nod readily beneath him. "How badly?"

She whimpered, and murmured, "Please..."

He started a little at her voice. He had never had her beg before... At least not since six years ago... He briefly wondered what had caused this change, but quickly brushed it off. He quickly adjusted his clothes so that his throbbing member was free and placed it at her slit.

Lord Voldemort was a sadist - everybody knew this for a fact, and he'd proven it to Ginny many times. Being nice never came easy for him, and he had worked hard all night for her... He was done being gentle...

"You asked for it, Princess," he stated and entered her fully with one thrust.

Ginny screamed out loud and her arms flew around his neck as she tried to ground herself against the sudden pain. No matter how wet she was, it always hurt when he entered like that...

The Dark Lord relished the scream for a short moment before pulling out of her fully and thrusting in again, invoking another scream from her. He smirked against her lips before pulling out again and thrusting back in. He did it over and over, pounding into her and after a few moments of screaming, her screams became more rhythmic to match his thrusts. He grinned a little - he always knew when her pain turned to pleasure. Usually, she made it obvious by stopping her begging for him to stop and starting to moan... Even though she wasn't vocalizing it with words, the way she was moving told him that her pain had been overtaken by her pleasure.

He continued to thrust into her until the two finally came... And the question of why she had been so willing tonight was answered with her final scream...

"Tom!"

xXxXxXxXx end flashback xXxXxXxXx

She had been dreaming about her old bestfriend and lover, and when she'd awoken and saw the face of him, albeit a little older, she just let the fastasy go on... Voldemort frowned a little. That had been the only time she had screamed out a namy in bed.

He thought it shouldn't bother him much that she screamed 'Tom' instead of his new name. After all, they were the same person...

But Voldemort detested the name Tom for many reasons... Firstly, it was the name of many men, and Ginny belonged to him alone. He knew she was thinking about him - he was a master legilimens and it was easy for him to see that. But now it was like Tom had never been his real name, but had been a mere stage name - like he was playing a role until he christened himself with his new name and fully became himself.

During all of their time together, he had been unable to make her scream _his_ name in their bed.

The Dark Lord smirked to himself. He had never been one to live with unfavourable matters - he always changed them and always got what he wanted.

As soon as the child was born and dead, the first thing he was going to do to her was bring her back to their bed and make her scream her Lord's name...

End of Chapter 5

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

A/N

Creatress: I wrote a lemon!! It sucked and it took me forever, but there it is!!!

Gin: I want another one!!!

Creatress: You'll never be pleased, will you?

Gin: (sits down and sulks)

Tom: Come, Princess, I'll make it better... (starts leading Gin away)

Gin: (to Tom) If there isn't another one next chapter, can we stick the basilisk on her?

Tom: Of course, Princess...

Creatress: ... ... ... Here are some review replies:

TwilightNocturne74 - THANKS!!! Yay, I've been welcomed into the C2 community ... if it's a chat thing, I would visit more often if I had a clue about it, trust me, but the this sites' C2 things just confuse me... Long story... Anyways, your welcome, but honey, my contribution's going to grow very quickly in the near future. And I already read All I Have to Do Is Die - kick ass fic, everybody!! Just read it!! There's this one guy - Paul - you probably won't like him - I don't - but I'm sure he'll be gone soon, won't he, Twilight? ; )

Angel in Disguise - (gasp) Great minds think alike!!! I was reading your review and when I came to that part about the Weasley brothers' reactions, I was like 'Okay, she basically guessed out two major parts of the next chapter, now what do I add in there to add at least _some_ element of surprise?' Gah, oh well. If you saw it coming and were totally unaffected by the Ginny and Charlie scene, it's your own fault for being so smart. He was basically in there to help her relax and slide into happiness.

I worry about my illusiveness... I keep wanting to give hints, but remain in the shadows, but I know my hints can be quite vague. Like in this chapter, the biggest clues come out of Snape and Hermion's conversation, but you're still left to wonder about it. If this fic ever gets unbarably foggy, it's your job to point it out to me, okay? Thank you. (hugs)

Emma - Thank you for your review!!! I'm glad you like my suspense, as well. I'm glad you like the way I'm portraying Volderz - I tried to keep him in character in this fic as much as I can - hateful, egotistic, self-centered... No, Ginny will not have to endure an endless ordeal - that gets quite boring after a while. Even for Tommy. Thanks again! ... And yes, a chapter every week... Actually, no...

Creatress:

I feel evil again!!! Next chapter won't be up until I get at least ten reviews!!! If I get ten before seven days, then the next chapter will be up within seven days. Otherwise, I get as long as I want. (insert evil grin here)

The first person to guess where pass sentence to 235 Newton Crescent came from gets a big hug... And an extra hint.


	6. 677 Guinevere Street

Disclaimer – I own nothing of the HP books or whatever associated, blada blada blada, you know the drill…

xXxXxXxXxXx

Author's Note:

Creatress: I don't feel like talking now... Will do author's note later...

(later)

Just read the fic...

xXxXxXxXxXx

Chapter 6

The Dark Lord entered the Riddle Mansion's living room and looked over the large chamber with a calculating gaze. As he had asked, all the major pieces of furniture had been moven out of the room, leaving the hardwood floor bare. The walls, once painted a deep red and decorated with expensive paintings and pictures of family members, had been painted a cream colour... As first glance, it looked white, but looking closer, one can see that it wasn't... 'Tainted innocence,' Voldemort suddenly thought, and smirked a little. He liked the idea. Giving the room one more lookover, he turned and nodded at five wizards standing behind him, giving them permission to enter after him.

Voldemort unceremoniously stepped into the room, followed closely by his some of his most trusted Death Eaters, and walked to the center. He turned and faced the five men, who had all stopped all over the place in the room. Fehrir Greyback, Lucius Malfoy, Peter Pettigrew, Alexander Parkinson, Igor Karakoff. Voldemort gazed at all of them in silence before looking around the room once again, wordlessly. A moment passed in silence.

"Master?"

The Dark Lord turned to Peter Pettigrew, who looked a little apprehensive. "I would not like to explain everything twice," Voldemort said, evenly. "We shall wait until Severus Snape arrives."

"My appologies, my Lord." A seventh man walked into the room and gave Voldemort a short bow.

Voldemort jerked his head once in acknowledgement. A few years ago, he would have been livid if one of his followers had shown up two seconds late when he called, but now he knew it was pointless for him to punish Severus Snape. His spy had some reason or another, usually Dumbledore-related. The Slytherin had also been more than helpful in the past few weeks...

"I have called you all here so that we can properly understand what will happen at the ritual in a few months' time. Alexander - " Voldemort nodded at Parkinson - "has a few things to go over, and I wished for you all to be here while we look at these things." Voldemort then turned and looked at Parkinson, expectantly.

Parkinson didn't blink before nodding. "My Lord, it's imperative we know where you were standing the night you killed Tom Riddle."

Voldemort gazed evenly at Parkinson before turning and walked to a spot a few meters in front of the window. He turned and looked at Parkinson.

Parkinson nodded. "We'll have to mark that spot."

Voldemort silently took out his wand and pointed it at his feet where a dark green circle, about a foot in diameter, appeared around him.

Parkinson eyed it for a second and glanced sideways at Igor Karakoff, who had been helping him research the ritual. Parkinson suddenly looked nervous. "And we must also mark where Riddle was standing."

Voldemort was quite intrigued by how tense Parkinson and Karakoff suddenly looked. Malfoy was also passing Parkinson a look that subtley said "be careful." Nott also looked curious. Snape seemed emotionless, and Greyback looked a little amused. The Dark Lord filed that information away for later and pointed his wand across the room where a black circle, the same size as the green one, appeared. He looked around at the Death Eaters, wondering why they all looked ready to duck and run for cover.

Parkinson stared at the circles. "At the ritual, your child will be placed where you are currently standing, my Lord," he said. "You yourself will be... Over there." He jerked his head toward the black circle, but kept his eyes on the floor, looking a little flushed.

Ah... That was why.

"Anything else, Alexander?"

Parkinson quickly shook his head. "No, my Lord."

Voldemort turned to Karakoff and raised an eyebrow, indicating the same question.

Karakoff also quickly shook his head. "What is left now is to make sure that the child is born at the specific place, taken away from its mother at the specific time... But I'm sure my Lord has already taken care of such details, so we needn't worry."

Voldemort nodded. "Then I have some business to attend to. Gentlemen," he stated, and disappeared with a crack.

"I don't understand," Pettigrew suddenly said.

"Neither do I," Greyback stated with a frown. "Why is the placement so important?"

Parkinson almost rolled his eyes before turning to look at them. "It is actually quite simple," he stated. "Circles."

"Elaborate?" Greyback asked.

"As you know, we found a prophecy a few years ago..." Parkinson said.

_The father's weakness,_

_The son's sin,_

_Never lost in time,_

_But shall become life._

_In circles lay_

_the son's weakness,_

_and his son's sin._

"Circles are a powerful shape," Parkinson continued. "A classic symbolism for eternity and immortality because they go on forever. However, in this case, they can also represent a downfall - the Dark Lord's downfall - thus giving him a weakness." He gazed at the two circles. "The most powerful and strong circles are the ones that appear in our lives. To become invincible, he will have to break the circle."

"I still do not understand how placements come into play here," Greyback growled, growing frustrated.

"It's in the prophecy. A father's weakness - Riddle's inability to make himself stay with his wife and child. Riddle's murder, committed by his son is the son's sin." Parkinson paused here before continuing. "It's never lost in time and shall become life because the incident won't be lost in history. History has a way of repeating itself, you see, the same way circles do - round and round..." He stopped talking and looked at Greyback. "Are you with me?"

"History is repeating itself?" Pettigrew suddenly asked.

Parkinson smirked and turned to Malfoy. "Lucius?"

Malfoy gave his friend a twisted smile before turning to Pettigrew. "Here's a story for you. Guess who the main characters are." He ignored the werewolf's aggitated expression then and continued. "Once upon a time, there was a poor, pureblooded witch who fell in love with a man who she thought she knew. It wasn't until she lay dying because of her love that she finally realized her own blindness. The End. Any idea as to who I'm talking about?"

"Tom Riddle and Merope Gaunt," Greyback quickly answered, his tone lined with boredom.

"No." Malfoy almost laughed at the look on Greyback's face then. "The Dark Lord and Ginevra Weasley, actually. I understand your response, though. The latter is, as Alexander pointed out, a repetition of the former."

"And you have your circle," Parkinson explained. "The prophecy goes on to say that in the circles lay the son's weakness and his son's sin. Obviously, it's expecting the Lord-Ginevra Weasley story to end the way it started - as a repetition of the Riddle-Gaunt story."

Pettigrew blinked, placing two and two together. "The prophecy predicts that the Lord's son will kill him?"

"So we're setting the stage?" Greyback suddenly asked. "Putting the Lord where his father once was and putting his son where he once stood to let the story end?"

"You forget, Greyback, the Dark Lord plans on _breaking _the circle," Malfoy replied. "The circle will be broken because the repetition will not occur. Instead of son killing father - again - the father will kill the son."

xXxXxXxXxXx

Snape had gone to Dumbledore's office that morning to pick up the address of the new safehouse. It wasn't a huge surprise when the Order members had been told that Snape would be the one to deliver the message - because of his legilimency skills, he would be able to trick Voldemort. Voldemort couldn't read Snape's mind or hear his thoughts because Snape had a way of hiding true thoughts and creating imaginary ones and passing them off as real, and pulling off other such tricks.

Dumbledore told Snape the address and the Potions Master nodded briefly and bade his farewell before leaving Hogwarts and apparating to Grimmauld Place. The small group of people who would be accompanying Ginny to the new safehouse were gathered and waiting anxiously for him in the living room.

Hermione, Luna, Pomphrey, Tonks, McGonagall, Lupin, Shacklebolt and Ginny, herself. Snape eyed the three youngest girls in the room for a second - they were seated on the two-seater couch, Ginny in the middle, flanked by Hermione on her right and Luna on her left. All three were still visibly shaken from what had happened two nights ago. Ginny had withdrawn into herself, speaking only to Hermione and Luna, and barely meeting the eyes of any of the other Order members. She wouldn't even speak to Charlie, and the whole house was shaken up over what had happened and the trauma it must have caused her.

"Severus, thank Merlin - " McGonagall murmered. She rose from the couch she had been sitting on and walked up to him. "We must not delay. The address?"

"I can not give it to you, Minerva," Snape replied.

"What?" McGonagall asked.

"The Dark Lord may read your mind," Snape explained. "We don't know whose mind he can and can not read. I can only pass it onto someone whose mind I am able to protect with my own powers."

McGonagall nodded, not thinking twice about this. "I see. But who - ?"

Snape looked passed her shoulder. "Ms. Granger?"

Hermione who was sitting on Ginny's right and holding the redhead's hand suddenly started and looked up at him. "Sir?"

"If you would come here."

Hermione glanced at Ginny, who was staring at the carpet and hesitantly left her to walk up to Potions Master. McGonagall moved away a little and looked at them curiously.

"I will tell you the address, and you will have to transport everybody here to that place," Snape said, quietly.

"Yes, sir."

"This is very important, so pay attention and make sure to remember the following. Firstly, the house is not connected to the floo network and no owl will be able to come within a kilometer of it," Snape stated. He was aware of the others in the room stiffen, but chose to ignore them. "That's right. There will be no unnecessary communication or the Dark Lord may trace it. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Only you are to step foot outside the house. No one else may even lean too far out a window."

Hermione nodded.

"If you must contact anybody, leave the house and move unseen at least one kilometer away before sending an owl. Never go to the same spot twice."

She nodded again.

Running his eyes briefly over the other Order members, Snape looked into her eyes for a second, searching for signs of suspicion, but found none. Why would he? The instructions that he'd just given to her were the same ones given to him by Dumbledore a few minutes ago. He then leaned over and softly whispered '677 Guinevere Street, London' into her ear.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows a little and thought it to herself, and then looked up at him questioningly to ask if she'd heard right. He read her mind and nodded, and she gave him a small, fleeting smile before turning away and walking back to Ginny and Luna, who stood up, pulling the redhead with her.. She firmly took her friends' hands and looked at the other Order members expectantly. The four adults gathered around the girls and placed a hand each over the girls'. Hermione glanced at Snape with a silent good-bye before closing her eyes and apparating.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Ginny felt a chill run through her as soon as the group appeared in the living room of 667 Guinevere Street. She didn't voice her feelings though and simply chose to stare around the house with a calculating gaze.

"Letter from Dumbledore," Remus suddenly announced. He had spotted a parchment lying rolled up on the fireplace and picked it up. He started reading aloud:

_"'I hope the eight of you have arrived with the knowledge of your exact location being kept secret. I have some important matters to inform you of that I unfortunately was not able to do in person. I beg that you pay attention and closely follow my instructions._

_I have known this house for a very long time. It is quite old. In the early nineteenth century, the house served as a public, but unofficial, hospital, run by one Dr. Conner. Not only did she treat the area's largely poor community, but conducted her own private research that was, though well ahead of its time, disposed of later after her death. Both her death and the disappearance of her research remains a mystery. After these incidences somewhere in the early 1920s, records of what happened in the house after can not be found._

_The house has been abandoned by the community - it has been given the honour of being a historic landmark, but the government does has not deemed it important enough to be renovated, reconstructed, etc. The neighbourhood now turns a blind eye to it and it looks rundown and void of life from the outside, and this is why you must all make sure that you will not be seen._

_Last, but certainly not least: The house has two stories where you may venture as you please, but at the southern corner of the second story, there is a small, narrow staircase that leads to the attic. It is marked by a rusted chain, blocking off the entry to the stairwell. I have a very strict rule for you all to follow. Under no circumstances is anyone to go into the attic._

_Yours, Albus Dumbledore.'"_

By that afternoon, Ginny still hadn't shaken off her feeling of calm restlessness - it was quite a strange feeling, to be honest, and she got it everytime she looked the house over. It seemed to be a fairly large house, but still felt a little cramped, though she wasn't quite sure why she felt that way... But she had an idea after touring the house. It had a living room, a kitchen, two bathrooms, and three bedrooms on the first floor, but all of the rooms seemed to have an excess of old furniture. Two of the three bedrooms had five or six single or double beds in each of them, and the third had three bunkbeds. The living room had four sofas instead of the usual three, and the kitchen/dining room had a long table that could easily seat twelve people. She supposed it must be a remnant of the house's hospital days, but she oddly felt a little reminded of her own home... But she couldn't shake the feeling that she felt she knew the house on a whole other level...

The narrow staircase at the southern corner was strangely inviting. At first glance, it may have looked eerily frightening with it's chain and narrow, wooden steps disappearing into darkness, but she had felt a vague pull toward it. She had brushed the feeling off, remembering Dumbledore's warning. The headmaster had not given a reason as to why no one was to venture to the attic, but she supposed he might have a good reason. So she pulled herself away from the staircase and went down to her room to take a nap.

Unknownst to her, her two bestfriends had felt the same pull when they passed the staircase and had shrugged it off.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Six full months passed by in utter calmness... It was so calm, it was unsettling. The days were passed reading, playing board games, even watching TV show DVDs that Hermione had brought... Ginny had grown a little fond of House and Doctor Who - the muggle technology facinated her.

The nights...

Ginny thought the fact that Voldemort had stopped visiting her dreams should cheer her up, but his absence put her in a sense of unease. Even during the time she had known him when she was eleven and twelve, a prolonged period of silence usually ended in something big... and generally unpleasant. But then she thought it may have been because Dumbledore had hidden her so well. As for her own dreams... She began suspecting Hermione or Madam Pomphrey, both of whom were looking after her pregnancy, was slipping her dreamless sleep potions, but she could never be sure - wasn't it bad for the baby? If they were however, Ginny didn't doubt their knowledge and skills, and was silently extremely grateful toward them for having provided her with the deep sleep she so desperately needed.

Her family was still not speaking to her... No one but Charlie, at least. Every once a month (or even rarer, twice a month), Hermione stepped out to get supplies and pick up letters and send off their own mail, and there were always a few waiting for her from him and Harry. But, around month five, her father had come round, just as Charlie had predicted. He had sent her a letter appologizing for the family's behaviour, and wishing her well, telling her to take care of herself, and expressing his wishes that he could see her and his first grandchild. The letter had made her crumble and weep in elation for two hours straight.

She had also started feeling her baby move around inside her. The actual feeling was magic in itself, and it awed her every time... On the advice of Hermione, she had started speaking out loud to her child, telling him stories and softly singing him a song she'd heard a long time ago in Latin...

_"You're a gift given to me by the Lord,_

_You're what came of endless love..."_

The first line, she didn't quite like, although she knew she meant God. The second was a little true - what she had felt for Tom back then...

_"You're the place my life begins,_

_You would be the place I would end it, too..._

_And in everything in the middle,_

_You're the only thing that matters._

_You're the endless skies above me,_

_You're the distant horizon beyond me,_

_You're the music that wakes me in the night,_

_as in the darkness, you call me, my light..."_

It was around month eight when she started to truly wish that she could hold him in her arms. Truth be told, pregnancy was not much fun... She grew tired easily, had extremely wild mood swings, had muscle pains... The only fun part was feeling her baby kick inside of her and thinking about names... She still hadn't decided on one yet, and little discussions about it became almost a daily occurance in the house.

She didn't know why, but she leaning away from Roman names. She figured she should add a Roman name to the list, but just didn't want to. She even cringed away from names that sounded like famous Roman names. The other day, Tonks had suggested 'Mark' and "No" had left Ginny's lips before the name 'Marc Anthony' fully flashed in her head. A suggestion of 'Julian' from Madam Pomphrey had been met with a frown as 'Julius Caesar' went through her head. She thought she must have a reason - she simply wasn't racist. She had pondered this question as she lay down one night to sleep, and her mind, bringing forth a repressed memory, provided her with the answer in the form of a dream.

xXxXx Dream/flashback...

"Tom, just tell me, _please_," Ginny begged.

She frowned at the book he was pretending to read as he ignored her and went to grab it, but the Slytherin must have seen it coming and held it out of her reach. He glared at her, eyes flashing. She gave him a reproachful look and he softened visibly. However, he said nothing and turned back to the book. Pouting, Ginny curled up on her end of the couch they were sitting on and sulked, hoping that he'd come around. Looking cute usually worked with everyone else...

If Tom had been in a worse mood, she would have stopped bugging him, but since he relaxed so quickly...

"If the situation was the other way around, I would tell you," she whined.

Tom frowned and turned to her. "Ginevra," he stated. Uh-oh, no 'Princess' - he was being _serious_... Still not quite angry though. "Are you trying to tell me you're too much of a dimwit to figure it out on your own?"

Ginny pouted again. "I'm saying your name is too long," she stated. "Why didn't you just make an anagram with... Tom?"

Tom scowled. "And what could anyone make out of that?" he asked, slapping the book onto the table.

Ginny stopped short. "Umm... Mot... No, I suppose not," she said, hastily.

Tom closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I hate my name," he said.

"You keep saying that, but you never tell me why," Ginny said, softly.

"Why do you think, Ginevra?!"

Ginny shrunk back a little. Now, he was angry... But she had a feeling that it wasn't directed at her.

Tom sprang up from the couch and continued, pacing before her. "It's overused. Completely... normal. This is the worst name to be had. If someone must be named after another, it should be something good, something that would strike people." He stopped his rant and scowled, hatefully. "Have you ever heard of a _Tom _that has done anything special?!"

Ginny quickly scanned her brain and came up with something. She drew a tentative breath and suggested, "Umm... Maybe you can be the first?" She looked up at him, timidly.

Tom looked at her for a second. Obviously, he hadn't expected a response... Especially one like that. The corner of his lips quirked in a wry smile. "I don't think so, Princess."

Ginny smiled inwardly, pleased that he was calling her Princess again. "Why not?"

Tom simply sat down on his end of the loveseat and smirked at her. "You'll see," he stated. He gestured for her to come closer and pulled her into his lap when she did.

"So what kind of names would you have liked?" she asked, cuddling up against his chest. She felt him start to run his fingers through her hair.

"I would have liked to have been named something original," Tom muttered.

"But if you had to be named after someone, who would you have chosen?"

Tom, a little lost in his thoughts, starting thinking out loud. "Julius Caesar... Octavian... Nero." He smirked into the side of her head. "An emperor. A conqueror."

A chill had passed through Ginny then and she'd shivered before looking up at him, worriedly.

xXxXxXxEnd Dream/flashback...xXxXxXx

"How are they?" Voldemort asked when Snape entered the room.

"Both mother and child are doing well," Snape reported. He held up the letter he'd recieved that morning from Hermione almost as evidence.

Voldemort, who was sitting in his armchair, playing with a clear Remembrol, frowned at it and said nothing.

"My Lord?"

Voldemort graced the Potions Master with a short, rather twisted smile before turning back to the Remembrol. He hadn't forgotten anything - he never did. The ball remained as clear as water in his hand.

"May I ask what bothers your Lordship?"

Voldemort looked a little pensieve for a second. "Here, history is supposedly repeating itself, but I can't keep myself from thinking of her."

Snape didn't need to ask why this would bother him. It wasn't that Voldemort wanted to be with his wife, it was just that the Dark Lord was afraid he was endangering the ritual by thinking of her. The Potions Master cleared his throat a little. "If I may say so, sir..." he ventured, nervously. "Perhaps..."

"My father had thought about me? Or my mother?" Voldemort finished. "I doubt it." He paused and glanced at the Potions Master curiously. "Had yours thought of you, Severus?"

The Potions' Master half-smile then was wry and bitter.

"No man does," Voldemort mused. "What is wrong with me?"

"It is my opinion that you only think about her because she's a part of such an important ritual."

Of course... "That must be it," the Dark Lord stated. He glanced at Snape. "When will it be born?"

"In little more than two weeks - "

Voldemort suddenly shook his head. "No," he frowned. "I need it within a few days." He looked at Snape with a serious expression. "Make a potion to cause an early labour or something and send it to your witch. Tell her it's medication," he suggested, turning back to the Remembrol.

"Yes, my Lord."

xXxXxXxXxXx

"Exactly how do you know it's a boy?" Remus asked out of the blue one day.

Ginny, Remus and Luna were sitting in the living room going over names.

"I don't know," Ginny replied with an exaggerated shrug. "I just have this feeling, but it's probably not even important. Afterall, I'm just the mother, how would I know?"

"Uh oh, her mood swings are starting up," Remus jumped up and started making his way toward the door. "This may turn ugly..."

Ginny stuck her tongue out at him as he left.

"How about Michael?" Luna suddenly asked.

"Michael?"

Luna nodded. "I'm not up on muggle myths, but isn't he an angel?"

Ginny thought about it for a second. Her angel... And she suddenly found herself feeling a familiar knot of worry in her stomach. Every time she thought about her child, a fear of what might happen to him once he's born followed close behind it. However, each time this knot appeared, she firmly told herself that she and her boy will be okay and renewed her faith in the Order with a vigour, and refused to let herself think about the Dark Side and its plans. An angel sounded like something too good to be true right now, but that's exactly what she wanted... An angel to watch over herself and her child.

"Here's Hermione; she'd know," Luna said. "Hermione, is Michael an angel?"

Hermione stopped in the doorway. The brunette furrowed her eyebrows a little as she thought. "I believe he's an archangel, yes," she murmured.

Ginny suddenly noticed that Hermione was dressed in bell bottom jeans, a blue sweater, tennis shoes, and a _brown suede jacket and colourful scarf_. "Why... are you dressed like that?"

Hermione looked at her. "It's cold outside," she stated. "Quite chilly for late September, especially now since the sun'll start to set in a bit..."

Ginny and Luna exchanged looks before Ginny frowned. "You've been out only a few days ago," she pointed out. She was very serious and touchy about security.

Hermione nodded, looking a little pained. "I know. I'm sorry, Gin, but I promise not to be seen. I just have to send for a few potions we may need in a few weeks' time. The baby's due within two weeks, and it's always best to be prepared as much as possible."

Ginny nodded, feeling a little flutter of excitement in her chest. Luna and Hermione must have seen it, because the two beamed. Hermione nodded and left after saying good-bye.

xXxXxXxXxXx

"Young lady..."

Hermione visibly started and almost reached for her wand before seeing that the person who'd addressed her was an elderly reverend from the Christian church about a block away. The man was thin, and small and he leaned dependantly on his walking stick. There were very few wisps of white hair on his bare head, his face was wrinkly, and his blue eyes seemed a little faded. Hermione was always cautious nowadays, but she had seen him out on his walk the very first day they'd moved in. Every other day, he was out and almost passed by the house in the late afternoon. What was curious though was that he seemed to look at the house a little differently than how most others looked at it...

A little tense, Hermione kept her hands inside her pocket, right hand clutching her wand. "Reverend," she responded. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," the reverend replied, his words breaking with his voice. He spoke softly and thoughtfully. He looked from her to the house. "Ms. ... ?"

"Mi," Hermione responded. Her name cut from Hermione to Mione to Mi. "Please call me Mi."

"Mi," the reverend stated. "Reverend Mathew."

"Pleased to meet you," Hermione reponded, her voice lined with forced patience. It was never good to stay out too long - by now she should be halfway to her owling spot.

"What were you doing inside the house?" Mathew suddenly asked.

Hermione stiffened. "Excuse me?"

Mathew stared at the house, a little fondly. "I lived there," he said, then and a small smile appeared on his thin lips.

Hermione eyed him... Mathew could definitely have been around in the early 1920s and prior to that, even. But... It had been a hospital... "When?" she asked, a little timidly.

Mathew opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. "I... I don't remember..." he murmured. He suddenly looked quite sad. "But I lived there, with brothers and sisters..." He once again smiled at the memory. "Dr. C," he suddenly said, and his smile became sad again. "She died, and she gave it to her sister... Dr. C always took good care of us." He paused and looked lost in thought. "Good old Mrs. C... I can't even remember what her name was..." He blinked. "My old age and its memory. But I suppose that's life, isn't it?" He started hobbling away. "Tis but a stage..."

Hermione watched him go and something suddenly occurred to her. She whipped around and stared at the house, her eyes narrowed.

Ever since they'd moved it, she'd felt as if she'd known the house... She knew for a fact that Ginny and Luna felt the same way, but none of the three girls could place why... It was as if the house was straight out of some story they'd read a long time ago...

Or a story they'd heard only two years ago.

Forgetting about the mail, she started jogging in the direction of the nearest library.

xXxXxXxXx

"Where's Mione? She's been gone for twenty minutes..." Luna was muttering.

Ginny suddenly felt a strange sensation run through her womb. She sat up and placed both hands at the bottom of her stomach.

"Gin?" Luna asked. "Are you alright?"

Ginny couldn't answer for a second. "Yeah..." She finally said. She rubbed her stomach and gave her friend a small smile. "I don't know..." They looked at each other and giggled nervously. Both were scared and excited about the baby coming, and burst into nervous giggles every time they spoke about it nowadays.

Luna looked like she was about to say something before loud banging on the front door stopped her. The two girls exchanged curious looks before Luna went to the front door.

"Finally," Ginny heard Luna say. She heard the front door swing open and then Luna say, "Mione, where - _Mione_!" Then running footsteps.

A second later, Hermione dashed through the living room, not even stopping to acknowledge Ginny, who hadn't even opened her mouth to ask what was going on before the brunette rushed up the staircase. Luna appeared in the living room and exchanged bewildered expressions with Ginny before running up the footsteps. Curious, Ginny got up, with a bit of effort and walked to the bottom of the staircase. Once stair, she leant on the railing for support and craned her neck in an attempt to figure out what was going on. She could hear Luna yelling from the second floor, but couldn't see either of her friends.

All of a sudden, she felt that wierd feeling again and a chill ran up her spine.

"Mi, don't!" She suddenly heard Luna shout. "Don't you - Oh, dear _God_!"

Ginny suddenly thought that yelling didn't suit Luna's voice at all.

Suddenly McGonagall appeared at the bottom of the staircase. The deputy headmistress also looked up the stairs. "What is going on?!" she demanded.

Ginny was about to answer, when all of a sudden, she felt a wetness between her legs. Her initial reaction was that her water had broken, but before the thought could finish, a horrible pain shot through her and she doubled over and cried out. It was funny - at this moment, what she'd noticed was the shadows in the house growing steadily longer as the sun set...

McGonagall was behind her, catching her as she fell. The older woman was calling for Madam Pomphrey. The pounding footsteps that responded the call were followed by Luna's voice.

"Professor!" Luna sounded hysterical. "Professor! Mione's gone into the attic!"

"What?!" McGonagall demanded, shocked. "Whatever for?!"

"Lay her down - the floor will have to do!" Madam Pomphrey's voice added to the yelling. "Luna, get some towels, a pillow! Go! Where's Hermione?!"

Ginny felt herself being laid down on the wooden floor, but most of her attention was focussed on the pain at the bottom of her stomach. She didn't know what was happening, but her baby could not stand this - how could a child live this and come out alive?! She cried out again.

Luna gave her Madam Pomphrey a pained expression.

"Never mind!" McGonagall suddenly snapped. "Just get the towels!"

Madam Pomphrey got down on her knees beside Ginny, who was now letting out shuddering sobs. "Something's wrong," the mediwitch murmured. "Oh, dear God..."

"The towels," Luna gasped. "And - and what else?"

McGonagall looked at her. "Dear Merlin, girl - your friend is lying in the front hall, on the wooden floor of a very old house! Grab anything to make her comfortable!"

Luna nodded and scarppered away. Later she would reflect on the situation and muse that if either she or McGonagall had been calm, one of them would have simply conjured the supplies. She turned and started running up the stairs, but almost ran into Hermione who was running down. Simultaneously, Tonks, Remus and Kingsley appeared at the bottom of the staircase as well.

"Mi - !" Luna started.

Hermione paid no attention to her. Her voice was frightened as she yelled the next words to the people downstairs. "We have to get out of here!"

The adults looked at her, bewildered. Madam Pomphrey shook her head. "We can't!"

"We must!" Hermione snapped.

"We can't move her!" Madam Pomphrey argued. "Something's happened - the baby's coming _now_."

Everybody froze at these words and Hermione suddenly looked as if the Appocalipse had come.

"Mi," Tonks said, looking from her to Ginny and back. "What is it? Why must we leave?"

Hermione closed her eyes and muttered, "This isn't the safehouse."

"What?" Tonks asked.

"We have been fooled, Tonks - this isn't the safehouse! It's a trap!"

Outside, the sun disappeared behind the horizon and the house became dark... Ginny let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"Hermione, what - ?!"

_"Voldemort was born here!"_

Death Eaters started apparating on Guinevere Street.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Ending A/N

Creatress - I know I took long, but admit it, it was worth it!! Cliffhanger ending!

Gin- AHHH!! You stopped at the most important part!!

Creatress - Me so evil...

Tom - Needs more me.

Creatress - Shaddup... And in the last chapter, "An orb that ought be on his tomb speaks of rose flesh and seeded womb" is talking about an apple. It was out of the Da Vinci Code. You know, they were at Newton Crescent and, hehe, there was this thing about how there should be an apple on Newton's tomb because it fell on him... Eh?

Tom and Gin - ...

Creatress - Okay, fine...

Review Replies!

Emma - Thanks for your review. Oohh, you got lots of questions and all of them will be answered next chapter.

Mary - Lolz, you have to read the Da Vinci Code to understand that. But thanks for your review, made me smiiiiiiiiiiile. Your questions will also be answered next chappie.

Wendy - Thank you!! I will!

Awww, Angel in Disguise didn't review this time around. (pouts).

Creatress -

Oh, by the way, I'm changing the pairing to Voldemort/Ginny instead of Tom/Ginny. Seems to make more sense... Yeah...

Anyways, the next chapter will include the birth and a very long dark Volderz/Ginny scene which I'm sure you will all love.

Next chapter will be posted after I get at least 10 reviews!!


	7. The Birth

Disclaimer – I own nothing of the HP books or whatever associated, blada blada blada, you know the drill…

xXxXxXxXxXx

Author's Note:

Creatress: (fidgetting, biting fingernails, looking like something bbbbbbbbbaaaaaaaadddddd's gonna happen)

Tom & Gin: ...

Tom: Hellloooooooo!! Creatress!!

Gin: Come on, start typing!! I'm so excited!!

Creatress: Okay... Don't freak out...

Tom: What...?

Creatress: I... have a bit of writers' block -

Gin: Oh, SHIT!!

Creatress: I know!! (starts crying)

Tom: Oh, damn - the readers are going to want to murder you - I mean if they're not already hounding for your blood after that cliffhanger - !

Gin: Damn straight!! Just write something - _anything_! I'm in labour here, dammit!

Creatress: (closes eyes and starts randomly typing)

luv

Creatress

xXxXxXxXx

Chapter 7

"Damn."

Upon hearing Kingsley's soft statement, everybody else in the house followed his gaze out the window. Eyes widened in fear as dark, hooded figures began advancing on the house.

"Listen! They're probably all around us and we can't apparate until we're a kilometer away!" Kingsley suddenly yelled. "Minerva - go out the back garden and get to Hogwarts! Get Dumbledore! Go!" McGonagall barely nodded before taking off, grabbing her wand to start defending herself against any curses that may be fired at her. "Luna - auror department at the ministry!" Luna took off after McGonagall. "Hermione and Poppy will stay here. We - " He looked at Remus and Tonks - "are defending the house. Let's go!" With that, Kingsley, Remus and Tonks left to face the Death Eaters.

"Mi..." Ginny's voice was so soft and pained, it was barely recognizable. Hermione looked down at her, dumbstruck for a second before rushing to her side. For a brief moment, she thought that Ginny looked a little as she did six years ago, when all of this first started. The redhead was trembling and crying, fear and sorrow clear on her face. She looked as if she was about to say something when another wave of pain hit her and she cringed away.

"What happened?" Hermione asked Madam Pomphrey when Ginny didn't go on.

"I don't know - she just started bleeding. It looks like the baby's turned around, but I have no idea how it did so fast - " Pomphrey started blabbering.

"Alright, let's just undress her and get ready," Hermione interrupted, glancing up once in a while at the window. She couldn't see the actual figures since she was crouched on the floor, but coloured lights occasionally lit up the night darkness and shouts interrupted the silence. A battle was waging outside - how long would Kingsley, Tonks and Remus last? Tearing her thoughts away from the battle, she turned back to Ginny, who was whimpering silently. "Gin - it'll be okay, we're here. You'll get through this." She would have killed to give Ginny a painkiller then, but any forms of medicine may interfere with the baby's magic and numbing spells could not be used because they didn't know whether it was safe or not in this case.

"I don't want - " Ginny suddenly gasped. She suddenly gripped Hermione's hand and looked at her through watery eyes. "I don't want it to end like this... I don't want to die here. I want - " She let out a few sobs and gently touched her stomach. She tried to compose herself as much as she could before continuing. "I want to be with him - I want to watch him grow up..."

"You will. You will... " Hermione said with as much conviction as she could muster. She glanced at Madam Pomphrey who'd cleaned up Ginny legs and was now pushing her black peasant skirt up her legs to prepare to get her in position. The brunette pulled out her own wand and pointed it toward the stairs to accio a few pillows and towels. "What will you name him?" she asked in an attempt to distract Ginny from what was going on around them.

Ginny didn't answer - she let out out an ear-piercing scream as ungodly painful contractions hit her.

"Breathe!" Hermione suddenly said. "Come on, breathe through the pain... Inhale... Take a deep breath..." She was very aware of Madam Pomphrey looking curiously at her, and, accioing a knife just for the sake of having something to do, Hermione had to admit that this was in vain. Of everything she'd studied, she'd forgotten breathing techniques - they were very basic afterall, but they seemed to be the only things that could help in this situation. She just decided to go with whatever made sense as she started placing pillows and blankets around Ginny to make her as comfortable as possible.

Ginny, however, found it physically impossible to take a deep breath - she couldn't stop herself from screaming or crying out every time a wave of contractions hit her.

She suddenly thought of cruciatus lessons with Voldemort and the pain she was feeling now seemed to have slightened a little. Just a little.

"Alright, I've done as much as I can here," she suddenly heard Madam Pomphrey say. "Get ready to pu - "

All of a sudden, there was a sickening crash and the two mediwitches looked up to briefly see Remus hitting the window and before falling to the ground outside. The window hadn't smashed and it was still up, but the impact left the glass with web-like patterns where it had snapped and the place with the most wreckage was outlined with Remus' blood. The questions this sight brought to the womens' minds were the same: Had McGonagall or Luna reached their destinations yet?

Ginny suddenly screamed after a new burst of agony, bringing both their attentions back to her.

"Push!" Madam Pomphrey suddenly ordered.

Not knowing what else to do, Hermione grabbed a small handkerchief she'd conjured with the pillows and used it to wipe the sweat off Ginny's forehead and neck. She thought she could hear Tonks yelling outside... She suddenly felt useless inside. Making a quick decision, she looked at Madam Pomphrey and leaned in closer to the woman, almost as if trying to hide her next move from Ginny. "Take care of her," the brunette quickly muttered.

Madam Pomphrey didn't have a chance to reply before Hermione suddenly shot up and ran to the front door. Hermione gave Madam Pomphrey a fleeting look that a mother may give a teenaged babysitter before leaving her child with him as she stepped out of the house to join the battle. Ignoring the urge to call the girl back, the older witch turned back to Ginny, intent on helping her deliver the baby as soon as possible. She started giving Ginny instructions to use her strength to push.

Poppy and Hermione had examined Ginny the previous night. The baby had been upright and there were absolutely no other signs that the redhead was about to give birth soon. After giving Ginny a small dose of one potion to help the lower back pain she'd developed and an even smaller dose of Dreamless Sleep (they had given her such a tiny dose because they had run out and Ginny had been sleeping without it for two days - the Potions Master had just sent a fresh batch to them that day and they had wanted to start her on the drug slowly) that would not harm the baby, the two meditwitches had sent her off to bed and had not checked her since. There had been no reason to. Now, it seemed that not only Ginny's baby had turned, but she'd also dialated to seven centimeters before anyone knew what was going on.

Through all her years as a mediwitch, Poppy had never seen anything like this. The girl was only at seven centimeters, but the baby was being pushed out... It was almost as if the baby didn't want to wait or Ginny's own body was trying to get the child out of her before she was physically ready.

There was nothing that could be done to reverse labour. Nothing could reverse anything in the oh so beautiful process of making a new life - sex, pregnancy, labour. Stopped, yes - that could be done. Either leave the bed or get an abortion. Or stop the baby's growth, as Hermione and Ginny so creatively did. Reversal, however? No. So what could be done here? What could she do to make the baby go back to the position it was in the night before and stay that way until Ginny was ready?

Before Poppy could think 'nothing,' she was suddenly in the air and was hurled past the Dark Lord before being thrown through the window Remus had been smashed against a few short minutes ago.

Voldemort, who had just walked into the house, closed and warded the front door behind him. The noise from the ongoing battle outside still poured through the now open window to his right, and he was a little irritated by the shouts of random spells and occasional screams from the street. A flick of his wand and the window was up, fulling repaired, clean of both Poppy and Remus' blood, and the noise was gone.

He didn't take a second to look over the house he'd grown up in - in his own opinion, he'd seen too much of it during his childhood. His onyx eyes were fixed on the girl lying in the front hall, barely two meters away from where his own mother had given a life and lost her own about seventy years ago. It would end differently this time, of course - firstly, the child would know its father; that was _certain_. Secondly, mum wasn't going to die this time around. Because where was the fun in Ginevra's death?

He walked silently to and around her so that he was standing behind her head. She was so focussed on her pain or the birth or maybe both, that she hadn't yet noticed him. He briefly wondered if she'd noticed the absence of that mediwitch he'd just sent out and decided that it would be news to her as well. Not that she'd probably care when she finally realizes who her new... coach... is. He put away his wand and crouched down before reaching out to touch her.

As soon as she felt his fingers on the side of her face, Ginny's pain was instantly forgotten and her mind focussed instead on the face looming above hers. _Voldemort_.

Voldemort smirked. She didn't think of him as 'Tom' anymore. "Regina," he said, by way of greeting and gave her a quick, cold kiss to the lips.

She gasped against his mouth. Her heart lurched in panic and fear, and she tore her eyes away from his charcoal orbs (through which amusement had flashed through a second ago) to scan the room for Hermione or Madam Pomphrey. "What - ?" she asked,.weakly, barely able to talk. "Where... Mione and Madam Pomph..." her voice trailed off. She thought she felt a burning sensation at the bottom of her stomach as another contraction hit her. She gasped, but otherwise didn't show her pain.

"It's good to see you as well, my Lady," Voldemort murmured, a small smirk playing across his features. He started gently combing her hair back and looked almost bored and absentminded as he answered her inquiry, but his eyes glinted coldly. "I just sent Madam Pomphrey on her way - I never liked her very much. Miss Granger just ran out to the battle a few moments ago. Very interesting twist that brought - just about everything's on blue fire out there. My Death Eaters are having a hard time putting it out - blue bell flames. Used in potions. It seems Severus has taught her well. If he hadn't done such an excellent job of sending you to this house while keeping that old fool in the dark all the while, I'd be angrier with him."

Ginny looked up at him, shocked. _No..._

Voldemort glanced at her and chuckled softly before getting up. He walked around her, twirling his wand in his fingers, looking a little bored. "Yes, my Lady, he was on my side all along. Severus told me of your pregnancy. He found out from that witch of his. Not that the oh so good and noble Hermione Granger cried about it into his shoulder. I always warned you, sweet, if you're going to give away your secrets, give them to someone who knows at least enough legilimency to confuse a weak amateur. The little mudblood wasn't even fit to do that."

Ginny shook her head. "He couldn't..." she breathed. _Dumbledore would have known if Snape had been evil..._

"Oh? Why not?" Voldemort asked. He sauntered over to the window and looked out. "He also told me about the Newton Crescent headquarters."

As soon as he said it, Ginny realized the truth. She had heard Snape complaining to Hermione about how angry the Dark Lord was at the time. Later, Harry had started complaining about how gleeful Voldemort was feeling. In the middle of the two incidents, Snape had gone to visit Voldemort. Why hadn't she linked the three incidents before?

"He also sent you here instead of Dumbledore's real safehouse on some island in the Phillipines. If only Wormtail had done as good a job with your living arrangements. I'm quite disappointed with him - there'll be hell to pay if he survives out there." Voldemort paused and shook his head, frowning out the window. "Not that there's a high chance. Your friend got him - blue suits him." He smiled nastily and turned away from the window. "You see, Ginevra, I had asked Peter Pettigrew to clear the house of any sign that it may have ever been an orphanage and get it out of here. And guess what he did? Not only did he leave the numerous beds, chairs and tables in the house, he didn't even bother to take the paperwork and historic records off the property. He got lazy, wrote you that delightful letter from Dumbledore, and stashed the papers in the attic." He shook his head. "If he'd done his job properly, Granger would never have figured it out and McGonagall would still be here for us to capture and use as bait. He could have at least told me - I just read a few minds right now. The man'll lose more than a few limbs when I - "

Ginny suddenly screamed, interrupting him. Throughout his story, she had literally felt her blood run cold and she'd stopped paying attention to the pain in her womb. But now it felt as if her uterus was about to be torn into two. For one insane moment, she thought of picking up the knife Hermione had conjured and cutting herself open to pull her baby out. What did Hermione call it... Cesarean? She didn't notice Voldemort eye her emotionlessly before casually walking to the staircase to lean on the banister.

When she stopped screaming, Voldemort inclined his head toward her stomach in a lazy gesture. "Severus' doing as well," he said, matter-of-fact. "I asked him to cause an early labour. I hadn't thought he would come up with something so quickly. I'm actually quite proud of him. He's a model Death Eater, save for his attraction to that Gryffindor." He paused and eyed her. "But I'd be a hypocrite to reprimand him, wouldn't I, Ginevra?"

And that was as close to a compliment as he would ever get, Ginny suddenly thought bitterly. She forced herself not to listen to him and to focus on giving birth to her child. She felt a wave of contractions coming, and prepared for the pain.

"Give me the silent treatment if you must," Voldemort was now saying. "But I'd be pleased - " He was interrupted by another scream from the redhead. He didn't seem annoyed by this, though, but only let an expression of grudging patience wash over his handsome face as he waited for her to become silent again. When her screams subsided into gasps, he started again. "You should be pleased, Ginevra, that I'd bothered to come to this _miraculous _event - "

"Why are doing this?!" Ginny suddenly cried out. She turned to look at him, tears in her eyes.

"Why am I doing what, Ginevra?" Voldemort asked, looking quite bored.

Ginny slumped back against the pillows and screwed her eyes shut. "I can't do this..." she whispered. She let out two sobs before looking down at herself. "Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry..."

"And yet you keep insisting that you're not eleven anymore," Voldemort stated, scathingly. He eyed her and that nasty smirk returned to his lips. "I was going to hold your hand - it's always easier to have a grounding against pain by gripping something, but since you're such a brave little Gryffindor... Let's see what you're really made of, my Lady. Let's see if you can give birth on your own."

"Damn you..." Ginny whispered, barely audibly.

"Of course, if you feel you need me, all you have to do is ask." He had thrown this offer on the table, knowing full well that she would never call for him. She'd take herself and her child to the grave first before turning to him. Six years ago, he wouldn't have needed to give her the offer. Any injury and she would have come to him first instead of going to Pomphrey and she'd peacefully curled up against his chest after letting him fix whatever it was. Gone were the days... Not that he missed them much. He just wasn't someone who healed people - while he'd looked at her, he'd done so with a burning desire to make her hurt worse. Sometimes, he'd given in to temptation and poured unnecessary potions over wounds to watch her cry out when it stung.

Ginny soon started screaming again and he leaned against the banister, waiting for a beg for help that would never come, letting her cries lull him into relaxation.

He'd always been a sadist - the pain of others lessened in him a dull ache that he could never seem to be rid of. It was all over inside of him - his chest, his stomach, sometimes his head... It made him feel sick. Screams and tears were like a medicine - a temporary cure - taking it away for at least a little while. Ginevra had always been such a drug. If her mere presence hadn't been distraction from his illness enough, her agony had taken him to a new high. Perhaps that was why, as she'd lain against him after one of her ordeals, he'd been at peace enough to lay with her for however long she needed without touching her in any harmful way. It was unfortunate for her that her pain brought him a sense of peace. So unfort -

His thoughts were interrupted by a rather loud scream from Ginny becoming accompanied by a new voice. Voldemort's eyes snapped open when he heard the baby's cries.

Ginny almost slumped back against the pillows as a feeling of relief passed over her. She couldn't see her child - only hear his feeble mewling grow into strong, steady wails. What she did see was Voldemort stiffen visibly when he heard him and freeze when his now crimson-tinted eyes found his child. For a brief second, the Dark Lord looked unsure of what to do and he almost ... nervous? Afraid? It was only there for a second, but Ginny caught it. This she would always remember. As soon as it was gone, Voldemort straightened and took a step toward her and Ginny felt panic leap into her throat.

"Don't," she gasped. "Please don't hurt him - "

Voldemort almost rolled his eyes before wandlessly conjuring the knife to his hand. "I won't hurt him, Ginevra... It's not time yet." He silently got down on one knee before swiftly cutting the umbilical cord. He then performed a quick scourgify to clean the child and the towel he was lying on up. Another flick of his wand caused the white towel to wrap itself around the still wailing baby. After half a second's hesitation, he gently and unsurely picked the child up in one arm. The boy immediately stopped his wailing and looked up at him with wide brown eyes.

Voldemort rose and took a second to look his son over. His son. The words brought up something in him and he wasn't quite sure what it was - whatever it was had to be linked to the ritual that would be performed later. The child had pale skin and black hair. As far as babies go, he looked good, Voldemort decided. It was almost a shame that he wouldn't grow up. However, if he could grow up, it was certain he would look very much like his father. The only indication of him being his mother's son were his brown eyes. As the thought registered, he turned from the baby to Ginny to find her staring at him with a glazed, but unreadable expression on her face. He smirked. "It looks like you were right, Ginevra," he stated. He unceremoniously placed the boy next to her shoulder. Ginny stared at the bundle, awe-struck, her own eyes as wide as the boy's had been when he'd looked at his father for the first time. "It's a boy."

Ginny's heart was fluttering inside her chest in nervous excitement. She turned so that she was a bit on her side as she brought a trembling hand to touch her son's face. He stared at her before reaching up to grip her finger and a wide smile spread across his face. Seeing her son smile, Ginny felt a smile forming on her own face before she burst into tears and pulled him closer to her. She was never letting him go - never.

"Touching."

Ginny looked up at Voldemort who was now looking at her with a wry smile.

"You have about ten minutes, Ginevra," he stated. "Then I'm taking him to Little Hangleton to finish this off." The look that came across her eyes then wasn't anger - it was more of a sign of primal instincts to protect her child. The Dark Lord hadn't been expecting it, but he knew what it was - the same look had passed over Lily Potter's face about eighteen years ago. He stiffened inwardly. She wouldn't... Who had ever seen Ginny Weasley sacrifice anything for the sake of another? As Gryffindor as she was, she wouldn't.

"You won't," Ginny said, staring defiantly at him. "You will have to kill me first - "

"And never you doubt that I would not," Voldemort snapped. "I can't have children, Ginevra, so I would not have to fear having a bastard with any woman. So believe me, I have no use for a wife." He eyed her. She was willing to do it - kill herself and use the sacrifice to make her son invincible against him. He decided to change his tactic. "You're a powerful witch - one of the greatest of our time. Don't waste yourself on something that's useless unless dead."

Ginny looked up at him in disbelief. "How can you say that about your own son?" she whispered.

"It's very easy, Ginevra, and it should be easier for you. This child's been the bane of your existence for the last seven years and now you're willing to do anything to protect him? It's hormones talking, and nothing else," Voldemort said, voice hard as steel. He eyed her for a second and he seemed to soften. "Hand him over and go to sleep, Princess. You'll think more clearly after you rest."

Ginny shook her head and glanced down at the baby before turning to the Dark Lord. "No."

Voldemort looked furious at her outright disobediance, but before he could react further, there was a loud thump against the front door, followed by shouts. Voldemort scowled and glanced out the window at the street. The battle was evenly matched now - Death Eaters and Aurors, Vampires and OTP Members, Dementors and DA Members. It was utter chaos out there, but Potter, Longbottom, Lovegood and two of the Weasleys had managed to drag themselves from the battle and were now trying to break through his wards. Scowling, he turned back to his wife and gave her a cold smile. "Fine then, Ginevra, have it your way." He ignored the shock that appeared on her face. "I'll leave him with you for now, but the ritual can be performed at any time within the next seventeen years." He got down on one knee and cupped her cheek before softly kissing her. He then turned to his son and ran his other hand through the child's dark hair in what any outsider would have called an affectionate gesture. He turned back to his wife and gave her a chilling smirk. "Count your son's days, my Lady." And he disapparated.

Harry, Neville, Luna, Ron and Charlie burst through the front door only a second later because he'd taken the wards off before he'd gone. Sounds of the battle rushed in with them, but numerous cracks also sounded with the entrance - the Death Eaters and their allies were leaving. Alerted by their yelling, Ginny turned to look at the five of them and as soon as she saw them, she promptly fainted.

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Ginny groaned a little and softly opened her eyes. The blinding sunlight pouring through the window made her close them again. She wished someone would shut the green curtains...

"Ginny?" a nervous voice asked.

"Mione?" Ginny asked. Hearing the brunette's voice brought back everything that had happened before she'd fainted and her eyes snapped open. She met Hermione's troubled eyes for a second before looking down to her right to see her son, who was sleeping peacefully in a small cradle.

"I'm sorry," Hermione suddenly whispered.

"What?" Ginny asked, looking up at her.

Hermione got up from the neighbouring bed she'd been sitting on and turned away. "I'm so sorry, I should've known he was working for them..."

"It's alright, Mi. No one knew," she said. She tried sitting up, but found a pain in her stomach that stalled her. "Help me up, please?" she asked.

Hermione turned to her and she blinked, before coming to her side and helping her sit up against the headboard. "I can't believe I'd been so stupid..."

Ginny looked around, hit by a sudden feeling of deja vu. "Has this happened before?" she asked.

Hermione also looked around. "We were here seven years ago," she said. "These same beds. I was lying here..." She nodded to the bed Ginny was now on.

Ginny smiled weakly. "See? We're square."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I suppose it started here for me. This whole story, I mean."

"Not for me, though. It started down in the Chamber of Secrets." She looked at her son. "May I hold him?"

"Of course!" Hermione gently picked him up and placed him in Ginny's arms.

Ginny cradled in against her chest and stared at him. "I can't believe this," she murmured. "It doesn't feel real." She gently brushed back some of his hair and looked up at Hermione, who was smiling, eyes sparkling. "I just can't get over it. This is my baby."

"Arthur was here," Hermione suddenly said.

Ginny looked at her, surprised.

Hermione nodded. "He just left - he desperately needed sleep. He'd stayed up with you the whole night. You should have seen his face when he held your baby - he'd never looked more proud. It was so heartwarming. He held him forever - the baby seems to like him as well. He wanted to talk to you..." Her voice trailed off and she smiled, seeing the pleased look on Ginny's face.

They sat in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts.

Ginny was having a hard time believing that she was sitting safely with a friend, her child in her arms. The previous night, she'd thought they would both die. She frowned a little. "He said he may kill him any time within the next seventeen years," she said, softly. She looked at Hermione. "Why?"

Hermione took a deep breath and told her about the prophecy, Voldemort's ritual, how they'd found out about Ginny's pregnancy... Her voice cracked many times. It seemed Snape had played a major role. "He has the next seventeen years to do it because he himself had killed his father when he was seventeen," Hermione finished.

"How do we know all of this?" Ginny asked after taking a moment to absorb everything.

"We captured Igor Karakoff last night. Veritaserum. He told us everything."

Ginny nodded, understanding. Another moment passed in silence before Hermione spoke up again. "Gin?" she asked.

"Hm?"

"What will you name him?"

Ginny blinked. She hadn't thought of that. Something occurred to her and she frowned. "I suppose his last name can't be Weasley? Since I'm married?"

Hermione thought for a second, and looked a little pained. "I'm... not sure... " she murmured.

Ginny looked down at her son, and a soft smile graced her features. She looked at Hermione, face serious, but peaceful. "Tom." She turned back to her son and gently kissed his forehead. "Tom Arthur Riddle."

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A/N

Creatress- YOU THINK OF A BETTER NAME!!!

Tom - What?! WHAT?!?!

Gin - I think it's a good name!

Creatress - You can't tell me you liked "Micheal"??

Tom - ...

Creatress - Didn't think so. Review replies!!

mary - I'm so evil, I know I waited loooooooooong after I got the tenth review, but this was a hard chapter!! Please forgive! Thx for the review!

Emma - I'm so evil!! I know!! And yes, the circle would be unbroken that way as well, wouldn't it, but there's still the chance that Tom III would get angry at Tom II for everything Ginny went through and kill him the way Tom II got pissed at Tom the Original for everything Merope went through and killed him... Thx for the reviews - I love reading them!

firefly of hell - lovely name!! Yeah, I explained a LOT in that chapter. Hope this chapter cleared up the attic scene! Thx for the review!

DracoGinnyLover24 - Thx for your review!!! Why couldn't you sign in though? (narrows eyes suspiciously, wondering if this is the true DGL24)

Creatress- Readers -

Tom - There are better names to name a kid than Tom!!! ARGH!

Creatress -...

Readers, what do you think? Good labour/birth scene? Tom a good name? Ten of you have to tell me!!

Chapter 8 won't be posted until I get TEN REVIEWS!!


	8. Sixteen Years Later

Disclaimer – I own nothing of the HP books or whatever associated, blada blada blada, you know the drill…

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Author's Note:

Creatress: Feels like forever since I've updated this, eh?

Tom: Oh, yeah...

Creatress: Well, of course. Sixteen years have gone by!

Tom: ... What?

luv

Creatress

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Chapter 8

_Breaking the rules._

Ginny sighed. It was almost 10:00pm - her son should be in bed. In the dungeons - this thought always bothered her - but in bed. However, the hand on the clock's face with the name 'Tom A. R.' wasn't pointed at "In bed." It was pointing directly at "Breaking the rules."

Ginny suddenly thought of the clock her mother used to have at the Burrow. In all the times she'd been possessed by Voldemort, hadn't her mother noticed when her daughter's hand slipped to "Mortal Peril?" Maybe Molly had never checked it often. It wasn't her mother's fault, Ginny knew and understood completely, but if the woman had made a habit of checking the clock, maybe Ginny's life would have come out... _Different_.

Not that Ginny was overly displeased with her life as it was now. As hard as the constant moving was, as tiring as the constant fear was, she found joy in her friends and family. Especially in her son.

Tom had grown up to look a lot like his father, and yet looked very different from him at the same time. Ginny had wondered if she would think of Tom, her love, every time she may see Tom, her son, but she didn't.

This didn't even change when, at age eleven, Tom had left for Hogwarts and wrote back to her that very night to inform her that he was upset. _Mum, I'm in Slytherin, but Charlotte's in Ravenclaw, and that sucks._

Was Ginny upset that her only son was in Slytherin? No. Because all the interhouse rivalries and competition were so far behind her now. None of it mattered anymore. There were good and bad people in Slytherin and there were good and bad people in the other houses. She just hoped that her son wouldn't be drawn to any of the beliefs that Slytherin House still seemed to represent - blood superiority and the like. She doubted that he would get caught up in blood superiority - for one thing, beliefs weren't genetic, so Tom Riddle II had not passed his own onto his son. Secondly, Hermione _spoiled _the boy.

Needless to say, Tom had no idea who his father was. All Tom knew was that the man was named Tom M. Riddle, that he died, and that nobody talked about him very much. It was drilled into the boy's head early in his life that talking about his father made his mother sad. Sometimes, it made her cry, and young Tom did not want to do that because he loved his mother. During his childhood, Tom actually hadn't cared that he didn't have a father - why would he? Not everyone had a father. His friend Charlotte didn't have a father, either. When he grew into his teen years, Tom seemed to have completely forgotten the matter. Nobody ever spoke to him about it, and Tom never said anything himself, so the issue never rose.

Tom had bigger things to worry about. Like all wizards and witches, he knew the story of Lord Voldemort and he knew that his family was a target because of their close ties with Harry Potter. Because of it, there was always a lot of tension in the air and lots of moving about from place to place. They stayed at one home for a few months, tops. He knew it was especially dangerous for himself - because he was the first born to the seventh born girl in seven generations in the Weasley family, there was something special about him, and Voldemort wanted to kill him in a ritual.

Also, there was still the little matter of Tom's name... The Headmaster doubted that Tom would be recognized as the son of the Dark Lord and decided to let him keep his name. But Ginny was still worried that Tom might be ostracized if one of the others found out - therefore, as an added bonus, the Headmaster decided to let Tom's friend, Charlotte, into Hogwarts a year early because they were so tight.

It was because of this danger that his mother almost kept him out of Hogwarts altogether. There had been a huge debate (fight) about it and Albus Dumbledore had finally put an end to the discussion by telling Ginny that the castle had kept Harry safe and happy and will do same for Tom.

Ginny sighed. The hand didn't budge. She half wanted to write a letter to someone to find him, but she knew her son would only react badly if she did. He didn't like her watching the clock and fussing over him. Though he recognized the danger he was in, he didn't want to be treated like a baby.

Groaning at the prospect of having to wait late into the night, she went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. On the way, she almost stepped on a cockroach, sidestepped a scurrying rat and skipped over a weaving spider.

The Order had picked up this apartment for her in muggle London, on Fier Street. The place was a bit rundown, but she'd only be here for two or three more weeks. It was also in the "bad part of the neighbourhood" but she didn't mind. Her son was away at school and she could look after herself. It was also safe. This place's security rested in her key, and her key alone. Only it could open the door from the outside or open any of the windows. It stayed in the medicine cabinet in the washroom and only came out whenever Ginny needed it.

After getting her cup of tea, the redhead sat down on a couch and made herself comfortable. She would just have to settle for watching the clock until her son's hand slipped to "In bed."

xXxXxXxXxXx

Tom forgot that he had a Disillusionment Spell on and quickly ducked behind an armour when he caught the silvery shape of a ghost turn the corridor ahead of him. He crouched behind the armour, hoping that it wasn't the Bloody Baron - the Baron seemed to sense the Slytherins when they were roaming about after curfew. Only Slytherins, though - the ghost had passed a foot away from Charlotte's hiding place one night and didn't even twitch in her direction. It was so unfair.

The sixteen-year-old risked a peak around the armor and saw that the ghost was gone. He got out and went on his way, chocolate brown eyes darting here and there, looking for signs of other beings who may get him into trouble. Passing through corridor after corridor and numerous staircases, he finally made it to the base of the Astronomy Tower. Beside a large painting of ... something ... the art was abstract, but beside it, there was a stone in the wall that was just slightly smaller than the others. One could never tell unless they looked closely at it, and even then it'd be a little difficult, especially in the dark of the night. Tom, himself, had only found out that the stone was special after leaning against it for too long... Lucky him.

He walked up to it and pressed his hand against it... 7 6 5 4 3 2 1.

The stone expanded into a large rectangle before disappearing, creating a little doorway. Tom climbed through it and as soon as he didn, the doorway disappeared behind him, to be replaced by the wall again. There was a small staircase in front of him and he jogged up it, taking the steps almost two at a time in his excitement. The stairway ended to reveal a balcony. The balcony overlooked the lake and the forbidden forest. The night sky was a colour of deep navy and was sprinkled beautifully with stars and adorned with a crescent moon.

Tom didn't pay attention to the sky, however - like most teenaged boys, he just didn't appreciate the beauty of such things. Instead his eyes ran over the balcony before finally settling upon a young girl who was curled up in a corner, buried in a book. He could only make out the top of her dark, chestnut coloured head and the pale skin of her forehead.

Grinning wickedly, Tom moved silently to her, keeping the Disillusionment Charm in place. When he got to her, he quickly grabbed the book out of arms and jumped away.

Charlotte suddenly looked up, and Tom saw a pleased look skit across her eyes before she narrowed them in aggitation. "Tom!" she said, accusingly. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her dark eyes were flashing... in amusement, Tom knew. "Give it back!" She scrambled up.

"What's the magic word?" Tom asked, pleasantly.

"Petrificus," Charlotte growled, following the book with her eyes. She made no move toward her wand, however.

Unexpectedly, the book suddenly stopped moving in mid-air and was tossed to her. She stumbled a little before catching it firmly. As soon as she did, the blue and bronze scarf around her neck snaked off and began twirling in the air.

Charlotte gave the place where she thought Tom was standing an even look. "Fine, keep the scarf," she muttered. She flipped her long, straight hair over her shoulder and promptly sat down against the wall. "I thought you had something important to tell me?"

The scarf stopped twirling, and Tom appeared around it. Despite the playful mood he'd been in when he first came into their balcony, he looked serious and a little uncertain. Charlotte saw the look and sat up a little straighter.

"Tom?" she asked.

Tom walked up to the wall and sat down beside her before handing her the scarf. She took it and snuggled into him a bit, looking up at him worriedly. "I... Had a detention with Filch this afternoon. He made me sort a few things out. Had to put a few things in the trophy room." Tom paused here and stared at a stone in the floor, his eyebrows furrowing. "There was this one trophy there - it belonged to Tom M. Riddle."

Charlotte's eyes widened. "Oh, my God, Tom, your father's...?"

Tom frowned. "It was from the 1950s. How?"

Charlotte blinked a few times, trying to do the math in her head. "So that would mean..."

"That my father is about 54 years older than my mother. I know." Tom cringed a little at this point.

"There have been wider age gaps, Tom," Charlotte said. "If you'd ever listened to Professor Binns..."

Tom gave her a wry smile. "It's not worth it, Charlotte." Then, as an afterthought. "You're such a nerd."

Charlotte responded by giving him a mock reproachful look. "It's what I do. It's in my genes."

Tom smiled a little, but he didn't feel it. "What bothers me is that I can't find anything about him _anywhere_." He shook his head. "Nowhere that could give me information."

"What did he get the trophy for?"

"For doing some great service to the school. Yes, Charlotte, I looked up major events of that time, and still came up with nothing." Charlotte didn't reply and Tom turned to look at her to see her staring out at the sky, wistfully. "Charlotte?"

"I know you're curious and don't get me wrong here... But, if your mother and the rest of the Order didn't want to give you information about him, don't you think there must be a good reason?" Charlotte asked, still staring at the sky.

"Are you talking to me or yourself?"

Charlotte turned to look at him, and her eyes looked like they were sparkling. When Charlotte got angry, or sad, or passionate - anything that raises her emotions, little golden specks become visible in her eyes. Tom knew because he watched her carefully - she had lovely eyes... Without those golden specks, they were black, but they glittered like some dark jewels, though they were always full of warmth. With the gold on black - it just made a nice colour scheme and her eyes just shone. He didn't think anybody else noticed.

When he'd finally told her about it, a little shyly, the year before, she'd gotten excited. Her mother had golden specks in her eyes as well, but it was hard to see because her mother's eyes were amber (Tom himself had never noticed until Charlotte pointed it out to him). Everybody on her mother's side had them and Charlotte was delighted to know that the trait hadn't passed her over.

It had made him to shy to approach her about it... He couldn't even remember why he'd done it. There was just something about going up to your friend and telling her that you'd noticed how beautiful her eyes were. His nervousness had been dashed when, after Charlotte stopped gushing about the specks, she'd hesitantly told him, her rosy cheeks a little red, that she'd noticed his eyes as well.

Sometimes when Tom got really, really angry, his chocolate brown eyes became dark and tinted red.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Tom's hand on the clock finally slipped to "In bed." Ginny sighed and got up. "Finally... Goodnight, baby."

The redhead sidestepped a few more pests on her way to the bathroom and inwardly cringed. She brushed her teeth before making her way to the bedroom of the small apartment and collapsed into bed after making sure her Occlumency walls were firmly up for the night. Voldemort couldn't find her physically, but he used their mental connection to drive her absolutely _crazy_. If it wasn't dreams of sensual pleasure or nightmares of her child's death, it was an ungodly burning on her right forearm that forced her awake in the middle of the nights.

Early in her son's life, she'd almost wanted to go back to him - she'd wanted to feel his lips on her own, his tongue across her throat, his touch on her chest. She just wanted to feel _him_. Being lonely in the romantic aspect of her life didn't settle well with her. However, she never thought of _speaking _to him - it wasn't the companionship she yearned for, it was just touch. Physical closeness. And Voldemort knew this.

Dating was out of the question; she'd put herself, her "boyfriend" and anybody else involved in danger. Separated from Voldemort or not, she was still his wife and she knew how the Dark Lord would react if he would find out that she had been having an affair.

He'd told her himself. During one of their "mind dates" in her sleep.

He would murder the man before her eyes, and find every single one of his friends and family members and torture them, making sure they knew that she was reason behind their pain. Then he would torture her until she could feel nothing anymore and then murder her. After making her watch the ritual with her son, of course.

This warning was followed by a tender, "But I know you would never even think about another man."

He also told her that she'd grown up so well. Her body had become more curvacious and more developed as her birthdays flew by her. He constantly told her that she'd become a full woman and he ached to explore her again... And his words were so sweet and tempting...

Which only goes to show that she still had the mindframe of the twelve-year-old she'd once been.

She quickly found that thoughts of her son forced these temptations of wanting to be physically loved away. She already had someone to focus her attention and lavish her love upon even if it wasn't sexual.

Laying down and pulling the blankets around her, Ginny glanced out at the night sky. It was completely clear, void of any stars or the moon. She supposed it was because of the blaring city lights. She didn't like an empty night sky... She pulled her thoughts away from the sky and yawned before drifting off into a restless sleep.

She was woken not an hour later by screams. Ginny started and sat up in bed. She was halfway out before it occurred to her that it was coming down the hallway. A woman was screaming bloody murder.

Dressing, Ginny had a mental debate with herself.

She was not to leave the apartment in any circumstance.

_But someone's in trouble. _

Someone else will help her.

_Everybody on this story's probably thinking that._

It's not your place.

_She could be dying._

She might not be.

_What if you were in her place?_

All of a sudden, the screams stopped. Over the thumping of her heart, Ginny heard running footsteps thunder down the corridor and finally ended with a door slamming shut. The silence that followed was eerily accusing.

Ginny sunk back down onto the bed. She sat still for a few seconds, wondering if she had just let someone die for her own sake. She rigidly lay back down onto her bed, taking deep breaths to calm herself down.

After her life, it wouldn't do to be _nice_.

Once upon a time, nobility and selfless deeds were everything. Anybody who didn't help another for fear of their own interests were cowards and didn't deserve the name Gryffindor.

But what had life given her? What had others done for her?

If she'd been the one screaming just now, would that woman have come running to help her?

She doubted it.

She forced the flames of guilt that leapt at her down to her feet and mentally stepped on them, extinguishing them. She lay back down and pulled the covers around herself. Now all there was from the incident was a vague sense of curiosity as to what had happened...

The front door lock barely creaked as it opened.

xXxXxXxXxXx

The night sky over Fier Street was just black. No stars, no moon - it would be a hot night. All of a sudden, a strange cloud formed quickly in the stale air. A drug peddler glanced up at it, wondering briefly if he was really seeing it or if it was just a figment of his drug enhanced imagination. Whatever it was, it looked cool...

A skull with a snake protruding from its mouth now decorated the night sky.

xXxXxXxXxXx

The next morning, Albus Dumbledore faced the difficult task of having to tell young Tom Arthur Riddle that his mother had been kidnapped.

xXxXxXxXxXx

A/N

I know, I know, it's short!! And I can't do any review replies today, I'll put them up with the next chapter. So sorry for taking so long - there's a lot going on around here!!

I promise a LENGTHY Volderz/Gin scene next chapter!!

Review replies!

Liv - thx. I'm glad you liked the name!

Kristy - LOL! I'm glad I helped get you hooked!

Emma - Lolz, girl, you're one of my FAV reviewers!!! You know, you're the first person who hasn't yelled at me over Snape. :P

damnedchit - THX!! "triple crossing"?! I loved that, lolz!

I'VE ALREADY FINISHED CHAPTER 9!!!

SO PLEASE REVIEW!!

Please review!!

luv

Creatress


	9. Return to the Hogwarts

Disclaimer – I own nothing of the HP books or whatever associated, blada blada blada, you know the drill…

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Author's Note:

Creatress: Don't feel like talking...

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Chapter 9

Tom's heart was pounding wildly. Dumbledore was still talking, but Tom suddenly couldn't hear him... The blood that had rushed into his head in a crimson tsunami seemed to get in the way of hearing what was around him. For a long moment, all Tom could hear was a distant thumping against his eardrums and a strange rushing sound, almost as if someone had pressed a conc shell to his ears. The headmaster's speech was vague and blurred around these sounds, and he thought he made out some of the phrases, like "trying our best" and "looking everywhere" and "don't lose hope" and whatnot, but the rest of it was just nonsensed babble.

The headmaster's hand was suddenly upon his shoulder. At the physical contact, he found he could suddenly hear again as the blood that had rushed into his head quickly drained out again. But now he felt as if there wasn't enough blood in his head and thought that his head felt oddly empty and light. This was the meaning of "lightheaded," he supposed, suddenly noticing that he felt dizzy.

"Tom?" Dumbledore was asking gently. "Are you alright?"

His mother had been abducted. She had been kidnapped by the most feared wizard in the world, and no one knew where she was. He had tried to kill her once before, he knew, and she had been saved - but it had been pure luck and she'd been hurt terribly by the event. What was happening to her now? She could be hurt now - they may have tortured her. They may be killing her. Maybe she was dying. _ Maybe she was already dead_.

"I'm alright." Tom's voice sounded a little hoarse. He looked up at the headmaster and blinked as if seeing him for the first time. "It's alright. I... " He tore his gaze away and looked around the room, feeling a little numb and not knowing what to say.

Dumbledore looked at him, sadly, wishing there was something he could say to make the situation better, but sugarcoating never yielded good results. If anything, it prepared people to be hurt worse when things go badly. "I understand, Tom," the older man said, quietly. "Perhaps you should go out to the grounds. I believe your friend Charlotte is waiting for you."

Tom nodded, stiffly, staring at the floor, his thoughts a million miles away. "Good bye, then, Sir," he stated, and promptly turned around and almost jogged out of the office.

Fawkes trilled sadly after him and Dumbledore sighed when the door closed. It was obvious that he had done a poor job of trying to comfort the boy. He also doubted that Charlotte would be able to say or do anything to help Tom either - the girl was young and had not been in a situation like this. She wouldn't know how to handle it. She might react just as Tom had. The boy had just zoned out in his panic, his fear evident in his eyes even he appeared outwardly calm - there had been a million thoughts running through his head, all scenarios of what could be happening to his mother at the moment and he'd responded to each one with more panic than the last.

Dumbledore had originally thought to tell Tom the whole story. Who his father was, why his mother had been kidnapped, and especially why he was so important. But Tom had been in no condition to listen.

Dumbledore rubbed his forehead in worry and wondered what to do for a second, before quickly making his decision. He walked to the fireplace.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

She woke up and almost screamed in panic.

She was alright; she was not hurt. There wasn't a single scratch on her. And she wasn't surrounded by dozens of Death Eaters, who were baring down on her, ready to curse her to insanity or to her death. And she wasn't in the dungeons or some other equally unpleasant place.

She was in a place far worse.

She wished there was someone, almost _anyone_, else there.

She wished she was dead.

She would have found herself in a better situation if she'd woken up in Voldemort's clutches at the master bedroom at Riddle Manor. She would welcome that situation with open arms and kiss it tenderly.

Because she'd just woken up in the exact same spot she'd woken up eleven years ago.

Ginny Riddle had woken up in the middle of the Chamber of Secrets.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Charlotte had been taking a leisurely walk along the edge of the Forbidden Forest when she'd run into Hagrid.

The half-giant was always so cheerful and relaxed that she immediately knew something was wrong when he'd greeted her presence with a troubled expression.

"Are you alright, Hagrid?" she'd asked after greeting him.

Hagrid nodded quickly. "Yes, I am, I'm fine." He looked away and let his eyes wander the trees of the forest. "It's a beautiful day, ain't it?"

Charlotte nodded, not taking her eyes off him. Her dark eyes grew concerned. "Lovely morning... Something's bothering you, isn't it?"

Hagrid looked at her and smiled, but it was sad. "There is something, Charlotte, but never you mind... I expect that you'll have someone to comfort in a few minutes..." Before Charlotte could reply, he sniffed and quickly wiped at his face. He quietly mumbled something and Charlotte thought it was "so sad."

"Oh, no, Hagrid..." Not really knowing what else to do, she stepped up to him and hugged him as best as she could.

Hagrid gently pet her dark hair when she pulled away and she smiled up at him. Hagrid returned it, shook his head and muttered that she had her mother's smile.

"Oh?" she asked.

"Well, it must be, it's certainly not your father's..." Hagrid trailed off when he saw the girl's eyes widen. "They're strange things, fathers," he stated, suddenly. Charlotte looked up him with a strange expression. Hagrid was now looking over her head and toward the castle. "It's amazing how children can grow so differently from them. Would you define a person based on who his father is, Charlotte?"

"No," Charlotte answered, honestly. She turned and followed Hagrid's gaze, but didn't see anything at first. She had to squint a little before she could vaguely make out her bestfriend walking quickly toward them and grinned. She turned back to the half-giant and her eyes clouded in confusion. "Why do you ask?"

"It's nothing," Hagrid muttered. He looked at her and smiled a little. "But it's good to know. Go to Tom, I think he needs you." With that, he turned and quickly disappeared into the forest.

Charlotte stared after him for a second, before turning to walk toward Tom. When she neared him, she quickly saw that there was something wrong with him. There was an expression on his face, and Charlotte couldn't quite make out what it was. He was staring at the ground as he walked and almost walked right by her when she grabbed his arm to stop him.

He looked at her and simply stared at her for a moment, almost as if he didn't see her.

"Tom?" Charlotte asked, cautiously.

Tom suddenly grabbed her arm that she was holding onto him with, his gaze intense. "I have to leave." His voice was soft.

"What?" Charlotte asked.

"I have to leave," Tom said, voice soft as ever. "I have to go to Voldemort."

"What?!" Charlotte shrieked. She looked around, almost as if to see if someone was listening. She turned to him and grabbed the wrist of his other hand in her own, almost as if preparing to hold him back if were to leave at that very moment. "What are you saying?!" she hissed, her stomach turning wildly inside her.

"Because he's kidnapped my mother," Tom stated, his voice growing a little louder.

Charlotte's eyes widened. "No..."

"He's kidnapped her. He wants me - we know he wants to do a ritual with me... He's using her as bait," Tom concluded. His voice was strange, as if he was thinking out loud and was just starting to reason these facts out. "Why else would he kidnap her?"

"Tom..."

"He's using her to get to me." Tom stopped short and he looked away, staring off into the distance. "This is my fault," he said, barely audibly and his grip around Charlotte's arm tightened.

"No, it's not," Charlotte said, quickly. Tom started to shake his head, still staring off into the distance. "Tom?" He didn't respond; his eyes had grown dark and a red tint was starting to become visible, but Charlotte barely noticed. She reached up with her free hand and cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at her. "Tom!"

Tom started and blinked. His eyes were brown again when they met her dark ones. Suddenly, he felt helpless and afraid. Without thinking, he pulled Charlotte into his arms and buried his face in the crook of her neck, taking long, deep breaths, trying to stop himself from crying. He felt her wrap her arms around his neck and she soon started whispering that it was all going to be okay. For the first time in his life, he didn't believe her.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Ginny scrambled up off the stone floor and looked around, eyes wide and frightened. She seemed to be completely alone - she didn't want to call for anyone to see this was true. For one thing, the body of the basilisk was gone and she suddenly had a wild idea that it had come back to life somehow. For another thing, her mind was able to reason as best as it could in its panicked state that Voldemort would never leave her alone down here.

She looked around, trying to figure out what she could do. There were various tunnels that led from the Chamber to other rooms, most of which had no other exit or entrance. She looked around wildly trying to figure out which tunnel she should go through - there was no way in hell that she was going to stay put. She quickly raked her brain, trying to remember which passage led where and mentally kicked herself for not paying more attention to them when she was twelve. When she had been a young girl, she'd trusted Tom and followed him throughout the Chamber's complicated maze, never making a mental map for herself - why should she have? She already had the greatest map - the walking, talking human map - who would always be there to help and guide her.

She looked toward the main entrance. It was the only one she was sure about - she knew where it led, but the walls had caved in eleven years ago and it was now blocked... But if Voldemort had taken the time to remove the dead basilisk, wouldn't he have cleared away the pile of rocks? But, she didn't have her wand with her and even if she did, there was no way she could have gotten up the hole that led to the inside of the girls' bathroom. Even she could, she wasn't sure the thing could be opened from the inside without a parselmouth being present.

But anything was better than staying in the main hall. _Anything_.

Her eyes suddenly fell on a heavy concrete door and she remembered that it led to a bedroom. She'd slept there as a child - especially after a hard day when she didn't want to put up with her roommates. It had a four poster bed with drapes... She'd felt like a Princess there... Drapes. Sheets.

_Make a ladder and see about climbing out of the main entrance._

She quickly ran to the room and right up to the old bed, her sense of panic and adrenaline overpowering the bombardment of memories that almost attacked her then.

Ginny was about to lean over to get the sheets when a low voice resonated throughout the room, stopping her in her tracks and freezing her to the spot in cold fear.

"Finally awake, my Lady?"

xXxXxXxXxXx

Dumbledore had provided a small, homy room with comfortable couches for the meeting. There were no paintings, no talking furniture, nothing that could disturb them.

Tom had not let go of Charlotte's hand on the walk back to the castle, and Dumbledore had decided that she could sit in on the meeting as well. It would be good for Tom to have someone his own age who he could talk to, if he should choose do so. Tom had agreed, of course and now, he and his friend were seated on the loveseat, waiting nervously and expectantly.

Dumbledore had conjured a tea set, but no one was in the mood to drink anything. After popping a few lemon drops in his mouth, the headmaster had chosen to stand by the empty fireplace, sucking nervously on the candy.

A moment passed by in silence.

"The headmaster has told you what has happened, Tom."

Tom looked up at his godmother, and nodded.

"We're all looking for her..." Hermione started.

"I know," Tom interrupted. He paused for a second. "I have something to tell you." He launched into his theory on why his mother had been abducted and his offer to turn himself in. As he'd expected, both Hermione and Dumbledore stiffened before stating "no" at the same time. "But, why else would he take her?!" Tom demanded, angrilly.

"There are other reasons, Tom. This war has been going on long before you were born," Hermione said.

"What other reasons? What does she have to do with him?!"

Hermione leaned back into the armchair she was sitting in and sighed. "He was the reason... " she started and trailed off. She paused before continuing. "He was the reason your mother met your father." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dumbledore raise his eyebrows.

"What?" Tom asked.

"He was the reason she fell in love with him," Hermione continued. "Tom, he's the reason you exist today." There. She'd done it. She'd set out to tell Tom that Voldemort was his father and she'd told him. In a sense.

"What happened to my father?" Tom immediately asked.

"He was killed."

Dumbledore eyed the mediwitch. It seemed that in the time she'd spent with Snape, he'd rubbed off on her. A little, at least.

"By?"

Hermione didn't answer. She massaged her forehead with her hand and looked away. "We're going to get your mother back, Tom." She turned back to him. "She'll be okay."

Tom was looking at her with a calculating expression. "Whose side was my father on?"

"What?"

"Whose side? Of the war?" Tom clarified. "Was he on the Order's side or on Voldemort's?"

Hermione exchanged a troubled expression with Dumbledore before turning back to him. She looked at Tom evenly as her response came to her. "He was on his own side." She then got up and Tom and Charlotte rose as well. "That's all you need to know, Tom. Just promise me that you will stay here and not do anything brash."

Tom looked away and didn't answer her.

"Tom?" Hermione asked. She looked at him and frowned. "How do you know that he would let her go if you gave yourself up?"

This hadn't occurred to him before and he gazed at the carpet, silent.

"Precisely." Hermione ran her fingers through his hair once before gently placing both hands on his shoulders. He looked up at her and she met his gaze seriously. "Promise me that you won't do anything."

"I promise," Tom mumbled.

Hermione gave him a small smile before turning to Charlotte, who was looking up at her, eyes questioning. The older woman brushed a strand of the teenager's hair behind her ear before saying, "Watch him for me, will you, Charlotte?" Charlotte nodded, and turned to look at Tom, who had shifted his gaze to the carpet again. "I suppose that'll be all," Hermione then said to the headmaster.

"I suppose so, Hermione."

"Good bye then, everybody." Giving Dumbledore a bit of an appologetic look, Hermione left the room. She hadn't been able to tell Tom the whole story, but at least she'd been able to make him promise that he'd stay in the castle. Voldemort could never get in there and it was the safest place for him. Sighing a little, she wondered how Tom would have reacted if she'd told him... She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost ran into Charlotte when the teenager suddenly ran past her and stopped in front of her, blocking her path. "Charlotte?" she asked, surprised. She glanced back to see if Tom was close by and saw that he wasn't. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with Tom?"

"Tom's getting examined by Madam Pomphrey. Dumbledore thought he looked unwell," Charlotte reported before looking at her quizically. "Did Voldemort kill Tom's dad?"

Hermione thought for a second, wondering how to answer. She chose her words carefully. "In a sense, he did kill Tom Marvolo Riddle - he is the reason that the man doesn't exist anymore." She looked at the teenager. "He's torn families apart. Many children have lost their mothers and fathers to him... He's killed them. Tortured them. Turned them against their loved ones." How could one tell a young boy that his father had done these things?

Charlotte was looking at her, eyebrows a little furrowed. "Is that what happened to my father?" she suddenly asked.

"Charlotte..."

"I want to _know_," Charlotte suddenly said, looking angry and stubborn.

"You will," Hermione stated. "Just not now." She pulled the young girl into her arms and gave her a hug. Hermione saw that Charlotte's expression had softened when she pulled away. "Now go see Tom; I'm sure he'll want to see you." Charlotte nodded and Hermione started walking away. "Bye, Charlotte."

"Bye, Mum."

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

"What's happened? Why am I here?!" Ginny demanded.

Voldemort straightened up and got off the frame of the doorway that he'd been leaning against. He looked at her with a wry expression. "It's nice to see you, too." He let his eyes run over her. "The only good thing about being away from you for long periods of time... Your body just gets more and more beautiful, doesn't it?" He started walking toward her.

"I want to leave _now_."

"I don't think so." He suddenly disappeared and reappeared a second later, right in front of her.

Ginny let out a little yelp and tried backing away, but the back of her knees hit the bed and she stumbled backward and fell onto the mattress.

Voldemort chuckled softly. "Eager to get started?" Before Ginny could react, he was on top of her, pinning her arms to the mattress. He kissed her lips once before she turned away and he moved down to her neck, kissing and nipping at her skin.

"Let me go!" she screamed from below him.

"Where's the fun in that, wife? _Divesto_."

Ginny screamed when the spell hit her and left her nude. Following her instincts, she started struggling harder. Unexpectedly, this seemed to have an effect and Voldemort let her go and moved away from her.

Taking the opportunity, Ginny rolled off the bed, taking the sheets with her, which she wrapped around herself as she got off the mattress. She stumbled over to a couch and collapsed onto it, panting. She then looked up at Voldemort, who had not moved from the side of the bed. "How did I get here?" she asked.

"I brought you here," Voldemort stated. He laid down on the bed, placing his head on his folded arms on top of a pillow and looked quite relaxed. "You know we've never done anything in this room. Well, anything fun. Just a lot sleep and pillowtalk. Rather dull, don't you think?" He looked at her. "We should rectify that - the room deserves to see some action. Almost every other room in the Chamber did."

"Stop!" Ginny suddenly snapped from the couch. "Just stop it! Don't you dare try to use my past to hurt me!"

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Ginevra. Just the opposite... Well, perhaps I intend to give you a little ache, but that can't be helped."

Ginny turned away and gulped, trying to calm herself down. "What are you going to do?"

"After I fuck you?" He ignored the scathing look he recieved from her then and continued. "We've discovered a... Loophole, let's say, in the prophecy. It appears that I have a lot of options, and now I must choose. The first is, of course, kill my son and make myself invincible. The second would be to keep him alive..." He saw Ginny's eyes widen in surprise and hope then. "...and play daddy." It was hard to desipher what Ginny was thinking then, but he decided it wouldn't matter. "Because either way, the circle would be broken. Now, of course, if I were to go along the second path, I would have to take him under my wing, treat him as my son. He'd be the second most powerful man... on the Dark Side."

"No." Ginny shook her head. "No."

"Or I could just kill him," Voldemort continued. "However, I see the appeal of option B. It would give me a chance to groom someone into growing up the way he should and making a proper follower - "

"You won't!" Ginny interrupted. "There is no way in hell that you would turn him into one of your followers! He would never leave the Light Side! _Never!_"

Voldemort gave her an exasperated look. "I think it would be quite easy. Capture him, and tell him the long, _sad_, story of how the two of you were separated from me. How you'd been lying to the Order, pretending to be on their side, all in order to keep him safe. How we finally managed to meet only a few short weeks ago... What happened last night wasn't an abduction, Ginevra, you just saw that the Order member who was supposed to be watching over you had let his guard down, so you decided to fake your own kidnapping and ran straight to me. We then broke into Hogwarts and lured him to us, and it was a great, joyful family reunion before I go off to conquer the world, taking my son with me. Lovely, isn't it?"

"And why would you expect me to go along with this?!" Ginny scowled.

"Because, Ginevra, a few years back, I learned a very useful spell... The Imperius, I believe it's called."

Ginny scowled. "He would never fall for that. He would never listen to you."

"I think I can handle my own son, Ginevra."

"You don't even know the first thing about him! How would you expect to control him?!"

"I know enough."

Ginny stared evenly at him, and then smiled, twistedly. "Right, then... What's his name?"

Voldemort raised an eyebrow before getting up and taking a step toward her. He didn't like the look in her eyes and grew curious. "What did you name him, Ginevra?"

Ginny's smile stayed and she raised her eyebrows. "What do you think I named him, my Lord?" she asked, her voice dripping honey. Voldemort didn't reply and he narrowed his eyes as he studied her. The smile faded off her face, and she looked up at him, expression stoic. Her voice was soft when she spoke. "Tom."

"What?" The Dark Lord's voice was dangerously low.

"Tom. I named him Tom." Her voice shook.

"_Bitch_." Voldemort's voice was still low. "You little _bitch_." His hand was suddenly around her throat and she was shoved up against the back of the couch. Ginny's idea's watered and she started gasping for breath and in his blind rage, Voldemort found that he didn't know what to do with her. He picked her up a bit and threw her back down onto the couch before turning away. When he turned back to her, the expression on his face was murderous. "That's clever, Ginevra," he said. "Why would you do such a thing? Have you decided that you wanted to die by my hand?"

Ginny looked up at him. Tears were streaming down her face, but her expression didn't show that she was crying as she met his gaze evenly. "I wanted to name him after his father - the man I loved. So I did."

"Who is his father then, Ginevra?!" Voldemort snapped. He grabbed a fistful of her crimson hair and yanked her up, causing her to cry out. "Millions of other men bare that poor, filthy name I used to bare! Perhaps this is not my son. Perhaps this is just the bastard spawn of that fool from the Leaky Cauldron!"

Ginny gasped and closed her eyes against the pain at her scalp, but answered him. "You're not his father, Voldemort. My son's father is Tom Marvolo Riddle. Not _you_. You can tell me, again and again, that you're both one and same, but I will never, _ever_, accept it for a _second._" She stopped and let out a sob. "Because even thinking about accepting you as the same person would mean having to see my baby as the son of the most evil, most vile asshole on earth!"

A resounding slap across her face caused her to become silent and the Dark Lord threw her back down onto the couch. For a few seconds, the only sounds in the room were Ginny's muffled sobbing and Voldemort's deep breaths, as he tried to calm himself down.

"It won't matter if I kill him," Voldemort stated. "I suppose we'll have to do something about it if I allow him to survive. We can always change it."

A short and bitter laugh came from Ginny then. She pulled the sheets tighter around herself before looking up at him. "What will you do, my Lord? Create another anagram?"

Surprisingly, Voldemort smirked. "No. He will take my name. Because you're mistaken, Ginevra. He is my son."

Ginny turned away from him, choosing not to answer.

Voldemort started walking away from her. "And I shall make the choice regarding his future. Right now, I am really leaning toward killing him. It would be so much more simple. However, I know you disagree and want me to spare his life." He lay back down on the bed, getting into the same position he was in before. "But the cons of that road outweigh the pros." He gave her a heated look. "Now you can either sit there and change your views to agree with me. Or, my dear wife, you can come over here and convince me otherwise. What will it be?"

Ginny almost snorted out loud. This had nothing to do with their - no - _her _son. If she didn't go to him herself, he would take her by force. Resigning herself to accepting her fate for the next few hours, she got up and went to him.

When she reached the bed, he pulled her down to the mattress and flipped her over onto her back. Leaning over her, he started pulling the sheets away from her. From beneath him, she suddenly thought that he reminded her of someone unwrapping a packaged gift. The thought made her shudder and he gave her a chilling smirk before fulling removing the sheets. He let his eyes run over her appraisingly, taking in her filled out breasts, curvaceous hips, smooth skin.

"You look delicious, Ginevra..."

She didn't respond and chose to turn away.

"However, you don't believe that would be enough, wife?" he suddenly asked. "Just lying here passively... It's rather boring, isn't it?"

When she looked back up at him, her eyes were sparkling. Wordlessly, she reached up and started kissing him.

xXxXxXxXxXx

A/N

Creatress - Next chapter will begin with the lemon that started here!!!

Tom - Why didn't you just put it here?

Creatress - Cuz I don't feel like writing up a lemon now. No inspiration, you know...

Ginny - ... Excuse me?!

**REVIEW REPLIES!!!**

raininginforks - thx for the review!! Hope you liked this one!

Jo - Lolz, thx for the review!!! Just wait for the next chapter, hun, father and son meet in ch. 10!

Lola - thx for the review!!! So glad your pleased!! XD

Emma - Lolz, so many people are upset about Snape in this fic. (looks around nervously for samiseriouslyam) But he's nice in all my other fics!! Well, as nice as he can be. Yes, yes, Volderz is running out of time!! Hope that last scene'll tide you over till Ch. 10! Thx for the review!!

damnedchit - 8o... Omg, I luv u. (hugs damnedchit to death) 

Creatress - Review!!! Here's an incentive -

**Major event of next chapter:**

Tom Marvolo Riddle/Lord Voldemort and Tom Arthur Riddle meet FACE-TO-FACE!!!


	10. Method and Madness

Disclaimer – I own nothing of the HP books or whatever associated, blada blada blada, you know the drill…

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Author's Note:

Creatress: SORRY!!! SORRY!!! SORRY!!! SORRY!!! SORRY!!! SORRY!!! SORRY!!! SORRY!!! SORRY!!!

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Chapter 10

Ginny braced herself for she thought she may feel as soon as her lips touched his, but the feeling that shot through her was a far cry from anything someone may brace herself against. As soon as they kissed, she suddenly felt relieved... Not pausing to wonder on this feeling, she moved her lips against his as he devoured her mouth. Raw passion and longing - something that they'd held back for almost seventeen years - spilled through them.

She wanted him - she wanted him physically. She didn't love him - she hated him. But she _needed _him.

"I knew you missed this, my Lady," Voldemort gasped as he pulled away.

If his words had affected her, she didn't let it show. She immediately turned her attention from his mouth to his robes. In her haste to get them off of him, she was almost clawing at him. Voldemort, who was enjoying her behaviour and the fact that the pure young girl who had written to him so long ago was now enjoying purely physical sex, had the grace to help her. As soon as his upper body was bare and his belt was off though, he suddenly barked at her to stop.

As aroused as she was, Ginny was smart enough to know when to obey him. As soon as she tried moving away however, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her off the bed, ignoring her screams of pain. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he forced her down onto her knees between his legs. A few flicks of his wrist and his member was free.

He'd thougtht he may have to force her a little here, but the Dark Lord was mistaken.

His wife glanced up at him once with her wide, chocolate brown eyes before reaching out to gently stroke his throbbing member with both hands. Above her, the Dark Lord hissed in pleasure.

Ginny, edged on by this reaction, pressed her lips to the head, evoking another pleased sound from her husband. Without warning, she started an onslaught on kisses and licks all over him as she used her hands as well to pleasure him. His hands were in her hair the second she swallowed him and he started controlling her movements by pushing her toward and away from him. Everytime he thrust into her mouth, he hit the back of her throat, but his wife wasn't making any complaints - not that he was even giving her a chance to. But, if her sudden moan was anything to go by, she was enjoying this as much as he did. He finally let her go when he came into her mouth and Ginny showed her first sign of displeasure as she started coughing. She had managed to swallow most of his cum however and only a small trickle escaped from the side of her mouth, which she wiped away.

The Dark Lord waited patiently for her to calm down. When she did, he eyed her. "Into the bed, Ginevra," he stated.

The redhead glanced at him with an unreadable expression and quietly climbed back into bed. As she did, Voldemort got up and zipped up his pants before turning around to look at her. She'd pulled the sheets to her chin and her eyes still held that undefinable inertia. He ignored it - another attempt at hiding her true feelings. He knew as well as she did, she had enjoyed every minute of that. She'd been without a man for the last sixteen years and he'd used their mind connection to trouble her to the edge of sanity in her sleep. She may not admit it to herself, but she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He gave her a small smirk. "Well, Ginevra, you just might have convinced me to let the boy _live_... But you want to be with him and watch him grow up, do you not?"

Ginevra quickly nodded.

"That'll take a little more..."

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

"SHOW... S..." Charlotte murmered. "URE. SURE." Doing some quick calculations in her head, she added up her score and wrote it down on the piece of paper with the teetable that displayed their scores so far.

Tom eyed the board and frowned. A long, silent moment later, he added PRES to the beginning of her SURE to make "pressure."

Because both were Prefects, they were allowed to venture anywhere in the castle and were sitting in Tom's dormroom, on the bed, playing Scrabble.

Charlotte quickly tallied this and added it to his side of the teetable before looking up at him expectantly for a smug smirk or a bragging comment, but it didn't come. Tom was staring out the magiced window, which showed the grounds even though they were under it, and it was obvious that his thoughts were far away in some unknown place. The girl was almost disappointed in herself for forcing him into a game of scrabble at this time, but it was the best way she could think of to keep him from formulating some crazy plan to do something like run off to the Dark Lord. Sighing, she put the score card down.

"You know..." She began.

Tom started a little, and turned to meet her onyx black eyes.

Charlotte started rearranging the scrabble letter squares into random designs on the board, not caring that she was messing up the game that had been in progress or the fact that she wasn't making any _words_. "If someone was kidnapped and was to be used as bait for someone or something, the kidnapper usually makes their ransom demands clear. The headmaster and the Order haven't heard anything from the Dark Side yet." She paused, carefully choosing her words. "So maybe your mother was kidnapped for a whole other reason altogether? I mean, my mother did say that this war's been going long before you were born..."

"I just keep wondering," Tom suddenly said. Charlotte looked away from the board and looked up at him, expectantly. "Why would your mother say that he was the reason I exist today?" There was no reason to state who 'he' was.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "Maybe your parents met during the course of the war."

Tom shook his head. "But that's so wierd. That means anybody could be reason for my being here today. Even Harry Potter - he had done a lot during the wars. His work could have orchestrated my parents' meeting. Why would Miss Granger point out - " Tom suddenly stopped and looked at the board. In her careless placing of the squares to make something that looked like the beginning of a house, Charlotte had placed MANIGMARVOQWER along one line and under it: JFHBTNFBLEDB.

Charlotte glanced at the board, noticing that Tom was staring intently at it. "Is something wrong?"

Tom didn't answer her. Instead, he reached out and brushed MANIDG and QWER from the first line to be left with MARVO. He then took away JFHBTNFB and B from the second line and pushed LED a bit higher to place it beside MARVO. MARVOLED. He shuffled the squares, starting to grow a little cold. ARVOLDEM. He vaguely heard Charlotte say his name, but ignored her as he added more letters and rearranged them until he got LORD VOLDEMORT along two lines, LORD on top, VOLDEMORT on bottom, surrounded by dozens of stray letters. Heart pounding wildly and a frantic voice repeating the word "No" over and over again in his head, he started to rearrange the letters.

TOM

_"...he's the reason you exist today..."_

_In this war we're in, there are two sides - the light and dark. Voldemort heads the Dark Side._

_"Whose side was my father on?"_

_"He was on his own side." _

RVOLO RDDLE

When he'd pushed MANIDG away, the letters had gotten scrambled. IAM sat innocently to the right of where LORD VOLDEMORT used to be.

Fingers shaking, Tom pushed the MA infront of RVOLO and the I between R and DDLE.

Oh, Lord...

No.

_No._

Lord...

xXxXxXxXx

Ginny cried out at the sudden intrusion. She should have known he would have entered her like this - quickly, without warning. She threw her arms around him and shrieked when he reamed into her again, sending a wave of pain and pleasure rolling over her.

"You love this, don't you?" Voldemort hissed above her. "You. Fucking. Love. This." A thrust on each word. "Answer me, Ginevra."

The lady was sobbing now, chest heaving with each shuddering breath she took. "Yes," she managed before she yelped as he rammed into with a particularily hard thrust.

"Of course, you do," Voldemort said. He suddenly pulled out of her and she whimpered. "How about twenty-two years ago? Did you love it then?"

"My lord..." His wife wasn't about to answer.

"You did, didn't you, Princess?" He leaned in close to her and let his lips run along the side of her face and around her ear as he spoke. His voice was soft, but it was laced with a kind of malice and evil that even Ginny hadn't heard before. "Let's make one thing clear - I never raped you then." He placed one soft butterly kiss at the corner of her eye, kissing away a stray tear that had fell. "Like now. Am I raping you now?"

Ginny didn't respond, only cried out against another hard thrust. He was going faster and harder now.

"Answer me, Ginevra!" the Dark Lord snapped. "Is this rape?!"

Her head was swimming... She was so close... "No..." She could hardly believe it as the word left her lips.

"You've always thought yourself the victim. The poor, unknowing damsel - but you always knew what was going on, didn't you?"

Ginny let out one sob. Gods... "Yes."

"You want this. Tell me you want this," Voldemort hissed.

"This... I... I want this." Her voice was shaking.

"Tell me who you belong to - body, mind and soul." His voice was hard and even.

Ginny could barely come up with an answer. He was going at her so hard, he was really starting to hurt her...

"Tell me!"

_Tom_. "My Lord..." She whispered and came, bringing him with her.

He collapsed, half on top of her and half on the bed, and both lay silently for a while as they caught their breaths. Ginny felt him inhale and exhale against her throat and the strong, steady beating of his heart against his ribcage, going quickly at first and then slowing down as he relaxed. About fifteen minutes of silence passed, before Voldemort pushed himself up a little so that his face hovered over hers.

"It's your own fault that you're here, my sweet," he stated evenly. She met his gaze and held it. That emotionless inertia was gone from her eyes. Her chocolate orbs were nows shining with a mixture of emtions that he would find impossible to correctly identify. "I may have hurt you. But you let me." He pressed his lips against her and spoke the next words against her mouth, his eyes never leaving hers. "I kissed you; you let me taint you. I touched you; you let me violate you. I fucked you and you let me hurt you."

"Because I loved you and wanted you to be happy," her voice was soft and a little bit hoarse. The Dark Lord smirked at her words and raised an eyebrow, but she was undaunted. "Excuse me for, at the age of twelve, having the mind of a child."

"And your reasons now?" A cool, amused smirk on his lips still.

Ginny looked up at him and suddenly saw the young boy she thought she knew. She'd wanted so much to please him when she was younger - as much for his approval and love as she wanted to see him just be _happy_. Being a child hadn't stopped her young mind from acknowledging that 1) He'd been in a diary for fifty years, that 2) He'd led a hard, arduous life with little pleasures and 3) He was almost always angry or depressed or _something negative _and this dark aura seemed to leave him whenever he got his way...

She actually gave him a soft smile and reached up to lightly run her fingers through his hair. "Doesn't it still make you happy?"

He gave her a lazy half-grin. "It does, Ginevra. Very."

xXxXxXxXxXx

Charlotte stood silently, knowing she should say something but not knowing what to say, as Tom went through his dorm room, cursing up a storm and hurling objects in his rage, hatred, sorrow and feeling of utter betrayal. Letting her gaze stray away from her seething friend, her black eyes fell on the Scrabble board and pieces that were lying mostly near the front door. The game had been the first to fly, but books, ink bottles, quills, games, and other objects soon joined the mess.

Charlotte was almost shaking in her shock, lost in her thoughts at the magnitude of the situation. How? _How?_ A sudden explosion snapped her out of her thoughts. When she looked up, Tom had his wand pointed at his desk and was muttering a spell to send it to the same fate the chair had just been doomed with - bursting into splinters all over the room. The table soon exploded and Charlotte scrambled off the bed and grabbed his wand arm.

"Tom, _stop_! Stop it!" She ordered over his yells at her to let him go. She looked up at him, and was suddenly thankful that looks couldn't kill. Her eyes brows furrowed a little in worry as she looked into his eyes. His pupils were dilated and his _irises _looked almost bloodshot. She'd noticed them tint red before, but never this much. "Tom - " She began in a whisper.

Tom suddenly let out a short, cold laugh and looked away for half a second before fixing his eyes on her. "I'm fucking named after him." He said this in an enraged whisper, a voice filled with so much anger, it almost scared the girl he was with. "Did you realize that, Charlotte? I am _named _after the most evil, most sadistic sorceror to have ever walked on this earth."

"Gods, Tom - "

Tom looked at her, sharply. He appeared calm, but the amount of venom in his voice was astounding. "Don't call me that."

Charlotte was silent for a moment. She didn't know why, but those words chilled her to the bone. "What?" she asked, softly.

"I want nothing to do with him," he stated, his voice even. He looked at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to say she understood. When she nodded, he turned away and looked at the spot where his desk and chair used to be.

"Listen," he heard Charlotte say. "I can't even begin to understand what you're feeling right now - "

"I'll tell you what I'm feeling, Charlotte," Tom suddenly snapped, turning toward her. "I feel like... Like tearing myself apart. Like I'm an abomination or some... _Thing_. I'm his flesh and blood. His blood is running through my veins and it feels... It... _Fuck_." He turned away and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Nothing makes sense anymore. What the hell was my mother thinking?! Was she evil?!"

"No, she couldn't have been..."

Tom rounded back on her. "What the hell would make her go sleep with the enemy?!"

Charlotte looked at him, worry and hesitation clear in her eyes. "Maybe she was raped - "

"Why would she name me after him?!"

Charlotte knew her next argument was weak, but it was the only one she had. "A lot of people are named Tom - "

"_Riddle_?!"

"Maybe she made a mistake..." Charlotte murmered quietly. As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it sounded wrong.

Tom glared at her. "Finally catching on, are you?!" When she didn't reply, he turned away.

No wonder he was hurt... Gods, his _eyes_... Charlotte didn't have a reply, but she noticed that his wand arm, which was still in her grip, was starting to tremble. Not entirely sure that it was the right thing to do, she stepped up in front of him and wrapped her arms around his neck. When he didn't respond, she pulled back a little and looked up at him. He was looking down at her with an unreadable expression, but it looked as if he seemed lost and angry.

Tom's mind was reeling. He had been unwanted - he had to have been a mistake. There was no other word for it. This is the lowest anybody could ever feel. He felt like he didn't deserve to exist - it wasn't as if he was ever meant to. His friend's sudden embrace caught him off guard and he turned his attention to her.

Tom was very interested in psychology - the workings of the human mind fascinated him and he'd read about what he was feeling now. There were a million things rushing through his head, but, though it seemed completely insignificant to _anything_, he focussed on the fact that there was a single chestnut hair against Charlotte's lower lip. He reached out and gently brushed it away. Merlin, her lip was so soft.

Forgetting his parentage and the horrid mess that the world was currently in, he suddenly realized that he wanted to kiss her. She had always been there for him, and he was quite certain that anybody else on God's green earth would have bolted rather than be alone with the only known offspring of a man so cruel people refused to speak his name. This thought triggered another one about his parents and he suddenly thought about how lucky Charlotte was - the Order had been right. Not knowing was a good thing. Ignorance was bliss. Charlotte was so damn lucky, he was suddenly feeling angry at her again. Angry that he was the one to recieve such news, that she never gave him clear signals on whether she wanted something more than friendship, that she wasn't the one suffering right now, that she - Oh, her lips _are _soft...

Charlotte felt a rush of relief when she felt him respond to the kiss. When she pulled away and he looked at her, she felt an even greater relief at seeing that his eyes were no longer red. His eyes just looked dark again and his pupils were visibly smaller. She didn't have time to dwell on this before he pulled her into his arms and started kissing her again. After a few moments of getting personally aquainted with her lips, he moved his licks across her cheek, along her ear and into the side of her head, where he buried his face in her chestnut hair as she burrowed in forehead in the crook of his neck.

"You aren't a mistake," Tom heard Charlotte murmur. "Nothing about you is a mistake."

Tom smiled a little. "Oh?"

Charlotte laughed softly here and pulled away a little to look up at him before gently poking him in the chest. "You know I'm a perfectionist. I just don't do mistakes." She gave him a quick kiss against his lips again, but was stopped from anything else by a gentle rapping at the door.

Tom looked down curiously at Charlotte, whose eyes had widened. Realization dawned on him too as she glanced around the room. "One second!" he called. Splitting up, they both started levitating and cleaning items up off the floor, putting them away in their proper places as best as they could. The rapping sounded again, this time more impatient.

"Just go open it a crack," Charlotte said. "I'll finish up here."

Nodding, Tom walked to the door and opened it a little. At first, he didn't see anything, but then his eyes fell on a small, brown owl which was standing in front of the door, looking indignantly up at him. "It's an owl," Tom announced, opening the door some more, wondering exactly how he could tell such a look on an _animal's_ face.

The owl flew in and perched on Tom's desk, which Charlotte had just thrown back together. Tom undid the piece of parchment that was around its leg and the owl took off. He straightened it, his heart immediately starting to hammer as he started reading.

_There's an old chestnut tree with a snapped branch near the Whomping Willow. Be there at 6:45pm sharp. Tell anyone about this letter or be one second late and you can consider yourself motherless._

It was 6:32. _Fuck._

"You can't go!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"I have to! My mother - "

"What if it's a trap?" Charlotte pleaded.

Tom was silent for a second. "I know this is incredibly stupid, but what other choice do I have?"

Charlotte turned her eyes back to the letter. "I'm coming with you."

"No, you are not!"

"Am so!" Charlotte retorted, eyes snapping back to his.

Tom conceded - just a little though. There was no arguing with Charlotte sometimes, and he knew a lost cause when he saw one. "Fine, but - you stay hidden. Don't come out, no matter what happens. If anything goes wrong, you can run for help."

"And leave you?!"

"What else could you do?! If something happens to me, something'll happen to you, as well, if they find you," Tom reasoned.

Charlotte sighed. "Fine."

xXxXxXxXx

Tom walked along nervously, glancing this way and that way for Charlotte. She was under the disillusionment charm, so he couldn't see her, but once in a while, he thought he saw a glimmer here, a few grasses bending under nothing there... But maybe it was just his imagination. The sun was just setting and the long shadows made it even harder for him to see. For a few seconds, he played with the idea of casting a lumos, but he decided that he didn't want to risk being seen from the castle or risking the light bouncing off Charlotte. Both situations were highly unlikely - however, either or both could still happen.

As he neared the chestnut tree, Tom could make out a figure standing there. He drew closer, and saw that the man was wearing long black robes, but his black hood and the shadows it caused covered his face.

Tom stopped a few meters away and stared at him, feeling a bit of adrenaline start to rush through him.

"Mr. Riddle." The man said in greeting.

"Who are you?" Tom asked.

The man didn't reply, only cocked his head a little. "Can you not see me?"

Tom narrowed his eyes. "No. Show yourself."

"I can not."

"Why?"

"I do not have a wand. Use yours. Use lumos."

Tom lifted his wand before raising an eyebrow. "Why don't you?"

"I am not capable of using one."

"Why?"

The man let out a noise that sounded angry and impatient. "Will you stand there and question me all night or will you help in saving your mother?"

That did it.

Tom raised his wand. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought he heard Charlotte yell 'no' as he murmured 'lumos.' As soon as he did, he was thrown back to the cold ground by a curse by the mysterious man in black. For a few seconds, Tom felt like he couldn't breathe and his vision grew blurry. He was vaguely aware of the stranger walking up to him, his hood having fallen back to reveal shoulder length black hair and a silver skeletal mask over his face.

But for one second, Tom's vision cleared and before he slipped into blackness, he focussed on this man's eyes and a feeling of familiarity washed over him as he thought of the blackest, glittering onyx.

"Charlotte..."

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Snape looked down at the Dark Lord's son and briefly wondered where the name Charlotte had come from before a number of victorious cheers resounded behind him.

MacNair appeared beside him. "It looks like your plan worked," he remarked.

Snape smirked. "Of course it did."

MacNair smirked. "Terribly sorry I ever doubted you. It just seemed that luring the boy out and coaxing him into casting a spell at the Kardrik Wall to bring it down... Seemed a little too simple."

"And now you know better," Snape responded. "I have to take him to the second floor girls' bathroom. You all know your orders."

"Of course, of course. Just be quick about it. We want you to take part in the fun," MacNair said, making his way to the castle.

Snape simply nodded once and, allowing himself a small smirk, levitated the boy off the ground before making his way to the castle.

xXxXxXxXx

When Tom awoke, he thought at first that he was quite comfortable. He was laying against something soft, and the hand was running through his hair was soothing and familiar. There was vibrant red infront of his right eye, and for a second he thought his eye was bleeding before he realized it was hair. "Mum!"

"Hush," Ginny whispered, quietly. "It's okay. Calm down." Despite her words, her voice was shaking and her eyes were watery.

"Mum, you were kidnapped! I - I - "

"I know, I know," Ginny murmured. She pulled him into her arms and Tom buried his face into the red of her hair and the dark forest green of her robes as he realized how glad he was that she was okay. "I'm so sorry..."

Tom looked up at her. "What for?" When she didn't respond, he looked around. They were on the stone floor of a huge room. "Where are we?" he asked quietly. Still she didn't respond. "Mum, what's happening?!"

"She won't tell you."

Tom looked up, vaguely aware of his mother clutching him closer to her, as he met the eyes of the man who had just appeared a few meters away from them. He started a little. Though he seemed older, this man looked just like him.

"She doesn't know. Do you, Ginevra?"

Ginny was now quivering, and Tom didn't say anything, but her arms around him were tight enough to hurt him a little. "Don't do this," she whispered.

Tom didn't need to ask who this man was. It was painfully obvious. "Mum?" he ventured, though he was looking at Voldemort.

"Your father."

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Creatress - Once again, soooooooooo sorry!! Uni just started - I'm overwhelmed, seriously!!! (sigh) But don't worry, I promise to get the next chapter out within two weeks!! I swear!


	11. Battles Rage

Disclaimer – I own nothing of the HP books or whatever associated, blada blada blada, you know the drill…

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Author's Note:

Creatress: Sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry!!...Gods, I really should be doing my essay right now.

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Chapter 11 – Battles Rage

For a long moment, Tom and Voldemort eyed one another, almost sizing each other up.

Seeing the boy leaning dependently against his mother, the Dark Lord wondered how long it would take to break him. Even if he could persuade him to join the Dark Side, could he make a loyal follower out of him? Or even a good Death Eater? Watching Ginny hold the boy, he almost scowled outwardly. The boy was so full of _love_... It was such a weakness, and an embarrassment in his own child. It was then, as he witnessed his own wife and child, that he was thankful that his mother had died.

Tom found that he was actually quite calm despite the situation. Most likely because it was all a dream... It was all so surreal.

"He won't hurt you, Tom," Ginny whispered to the seventeen-year-old, all though she was looking at Voldemort. The Dark Lord only gave her a twisted, daring smirk and she felt an iciness flow though her. "He won't," she repeated, but with a little less conviction.

"What's happening?" Tom asked, looking from one parent to another. "Where are we?"

"The Chamber of Secrets," Voldemort replied, lightly. "A very special place. It's seen many..." He trailed off. "Endings and beginnings, you could say."

"Stop it," Ginny spat quietly.

"What?" Tom asked, quietly. "What does he mean, Mum?"

"Nothing, baby," Ginny muttered, though she didn't shift her eyes away from the man before them. "He meant nothing by it."

"You shouldn't lie to your son, Ginevra," the Dark Lord put in. "You never know what he'll grow up to do."

Tom, by now, was growing quite frustrated. "What is going on?!" he demanded, startling his mother, who finally turned back to him. He turned to glare at his father. "How is _he _my father?!"

"Well, well," Voldemort murmured. The corner of his mouth turned up in a sinister smile. "The boy has a backbone. You see, my _dear _son, about twenty-three years ago, we did something special here. And here you are as a result." He swirled his wand in his fingers as he suddenly scrutinized Tom for half a second. "But that's all in the past. We now have a decision to make," he said, quietly.

Tom didn't seem to be listening. "It makes no sense..." He glanced at Ginny before turning back to Voldemort. "You're evil - she would never have done anything with you."

"You'd be surprised," Voldemort muttered with a smirk. "What she would do with me."

"Liar!" Tom retorted.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "You must really learn not to talk back to me, boy," he hissed. "But since this is a first, I'll let it pass, but if you dare raise your voice against me again, I'll make sure you'll regret it."

Tom scowled, but said nothing, feeling Ginny hug him tighter.

"As I've said, we have a decision to make." Voldemort fixed his eyes on both mother and child. "Why don't you tell him, Ginevra?"

Tom turned to his mother, who was now looking at him with a kind of fear and pleading in her eyes. "Listen..." She started. "This is very important, Tom - "

"Don't call me that, Mum," Tom suddenly said. Ginny's eyes widened and Voldemort looked like he wanted to laugh out loud. Tom glanced at the older man with ferocious scowl. "That was his name, wasn't it? I don't want anything to do with him."

Voldemort was now looking at his son with an even expression. "That was my father's name. Never again mention it as my own."

"Look..." Ginny said, quietly and Tom turned back to her. "If you don't willingly join him, he'll kill you." Quickly shushing her son's attempt at interrupting to protest, she continued. "I'm sorry, baby, I really am." Her eyes were watering. "This was one of the last things I wanted, but I'd rather have you alive, no matter what side you fight for."

Tom gulped, his blood seemingly have gone cold. "What about you?"

"He'll let me stay with you."

Tom was silent for a second before asking, "What will he make me do?"

There was a whole list that she could've answered with and she shut her eyes against the horror of it, finally releasing the tears that had been building in her eyes. "I don't know," she whispered, her voice almost shaking. She opened her eyes again and met her son's gaze. "But, please, just do it."

Tom suddenly caught her arm in a tight grip. "And you'll stay with me? How long?"

"Until the day I die," she promised in a whisper, the ghost of a smile appearing through her tears.

Tom was searching her face, as if looking for something. Finally, he used his free hand to reach up and wipe away her tears on the right side of her face. "Please stop crying," he asked, quietly. It was one of the most absurd requests he could have made, but it seemed the only thing that mattered at the moment. His mother quickly wiped away the tears of her left eye before pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Tom wished she would never let him go, but a second later, she did.

"Fine. I'll join you," Tom said, his quiet voice hoarse.

Voldemort's black eyes shifted from him to Ginny and back. Then, he smirked, nastily. "Good choice. Now, pass my test and I'll accept you into my ranks with open arms."

Tom looked to Ginny with confusion, but she only squeezed his arm and gave him a pleading look. He turned back to his father. "What if I fail?" he asked, quietly.

Voldemort only shrugged. "Then something terribly painful will happen." He eyed the boy with a calculating look. "You know how to cast the Cruciatus?"

Tom nodded, stiffly. "I've never done it before, though," he added.

"There's a first time for everything, son," Voldemort smirked. He let his eyes pass lazily over Ginny, who paled a little. "Cast it on her."

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Charlotte was torn between running ahead of the Death Eaters to warn everybody and closely following the man who had Tom... She quickly lost them, however. Whoever had taken him was obviously physically fit, and she'd fallen back quickly because she couldn't keep up with his long strides.

It was utter chaos in the castle by the time Charlotte managed to get up to it. None of the students seemed to be around, however - there were only Aurors and Order members battling it out with the enemy. Still disillusioned, she managed to dodge and weave through them, remaining unnoticed as she followed the man who still had Tom. Many people tried to stop him, but he was powerful enough (and had enough back-up support) to simply wave a few curses their ways before letting his comrades take over to continue on his way. This served as a huge warning to her, but, telling herself that she had the element of surprise on her side if she found herself in a situation where she'd have to face him alone, she continued. Though she hoped desperately that she'd meet Dumbledore or _someone _before that might happen.

On the second floor, it was much calmer... There was no one in sight. Even the portraits were empty. She was a little confused when he disappeared into the broken girls' washroom. Swallowing, she was about to follow when something stopped her.

"Charlotte!"

Torn between being thankful for being found and being frightened that she'd been given away, she whipped around. "Mum!"

Hermione rushed forward, looking rather relieved. "Professor Flitwick's been looking every - " Suddenly, she stopped, her eyes growing wide in fear. "Charlotte!" she shrieked just as Charlotte felt something streak past her shoulder. The jet of red light shot passed her and almost hit Hermione, who ducked out of the way just in time, letting the light hit the stone wall, frying the gray to a dark black. "Get down, Charlotte!" she shrieked, running in front of her daughter, her own wand out in front of her. A wave of it and the second streak of red that the Death Eater cast stopped in mid air.

Charlotte scrambled for her own wand and pulled it out soon enough to see the Death Eater shoot green sparks out of his wand… To the other end of the hallway. "Why?" Charlotte asked, quietly. She quickly got her answer when two other Death Eaters appeared – the sparks served as a call for help. She stepped back as Hermione pushed her behind her. "Mum," she said, quietly, feeling her heart thudding loudly. Her mother only squeezed her hand, as a means of comfort.

If the three weren't bad enough, the girls' washroom door slammed open and the one Charlotte had been following stepped out and stood beside the one who attacked her. The other two ran up and stood on either side of them.

One started laughing, sinisterly. "Oh, this is rich," he chuckled. "We hardly need four to handle a healer and a teenager. One - " He looked contemptuously at the wizard who'd summoned them. "Should have been enough."

"It was an accident!" the first Death Eater snapped. "I shall handle them. You three stand and watch." He took a step toward the two women.

For a long moment, nobody moved and a pin dropping could be heard. Hermione squeezed Charlotte's hand tighter and softly whispered, "Run. Don't look back." Charlotte had barely turned to her mother in shock before Hermione fired an "expelliarmus" at him.

Charlotte froze and braced herself against Hermione for a triple attack from the other three, who'd whipped their wands up –

One suddenly waved his arm at the other two, sending them reeling back.

Charlotte's eyes widened and she turned to Hermione to find her staring in shock.

The Death Eater Hermione had attacked had picked up his wand and he and the one who'd just saved them started dueling. Their saviour stunned him long enough to turn around to face them. "Run!" he snapped before turning back to the battle.

Hermione finally gathered her wits and shoved Charlotte in the direction of the end of the hallway. "You heard him – go." Charlotte started to protest. "Go, Charlotte!" When Charlotte took a step away from her, Hermione turned back to the battle and entered it.

Charlotte took two steps before another beam of red shot at her. She ducked it, only to be hit in the shoulder with another shot of red. The girl let out an anguished scream and a sensation of being scalded overtook her small body. Her mother's terrified scream was the last thing she heard before her mind went blank and she went rigid, falling to the floor.

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"What?!" Tom asked, horrified. He glanced at Ginny, who was staring at Voldemort in disbelief. "No!"

"I don't take kindly to outright disobedience," Voldemort stated, a warning in his voice.

"Do it."

Tom turned to make sure he'd heard right. Tears were streaming down her face. "No," he said.

"Do it, Tom," Ginny said. She shook her head. "You can't have loyalty to anyone but him." Tom started to say something, but she hushed him. "Get up," she whispered, standing, pulling her son up with her. She then gently pushed him away and stepped away from him. "It's okay. Finish it quickly."

Tom stared at her for a few seconds. Billions of thoughts were running through his head, none of them making an ounce of sense. His throat was closing up – he couldn't have cast it even if he'd wanted to. He tried holding up his wand, which was shaking in his trembling hand… His arm was like lead. He finally shook his head. "No," he whispered. He could barely be heard. "I can't."

"Of course, you can," Voldemort suddenly said. "It's quite simple. _Crucio._"

Ginny's screams echoed throughout the Chamber, joined quickly by Tom's shouts of horror, as she was thrown back several feet by the force of the curse. Her body bounced of the stone floor twice, the sickening sound of bones breaking adding to her screams.

"Don't move!" Voldemort snapped at Tom, who'd taken a step toward her. "Or I will kill her."

"You sadistic - " Tom caught himself and gulped. He turned away when Voldemort smirked, nastily. He looked at Gin, who lay panting, and saw that her red hair was streaked with another shade of red, so dark it was almost black. "She's bleeding!" he exclaimed, gut wrenching inside him.

"How unfortunate. You have yet crucio her," the dark wizard pointed out.

Tom whipped back to Voldemort, eyes darkening and flashing red for a millisecond. "Why are you doing this?!" he demanded.

"Do not question me," Voldemort hissed. He pointed his wand at Ginny again. "_Crucio_."

"Stop!" Tom yelled over Ginny's screams.

Voldemort lifted the curse, but didn't even glance at his wife, who'd grown silent, eyes shut tight. "Until you do it, I'll just have to keep doing it for you. _Crucio_."

"No!" Tom shouted.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at him before lifting the curse.

Neither father nor son had noticed that she hadn't screamed this time around.

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All Ginny could see was darkness. She could hear Tom yell something and Voldemort replied, but their voices were too muddled to make out the words. Suddenly, another wave of pain washed over her. She was more excruciating than the last shot.

She could still feel her hair growing wetter and wetter from the blood that had seeped through her head. Her limbs were jerking violently under the curse and her screams thundered throughout her own head as they vibrated around the Chamber. She could feel more of her life essence in her mouth.

Then, her limbs stopped moving and her body lay still, shuddering softly. Tom was yelling again, but he was so far away. She could barely hear him…

All of a sudden, the pain was gone. Tom's voice was gone.

All she could hear or feel was the irregular pounding of her heart. Wondering what had happened, she tried opening her eyes and found that she couldn't. She struggled with her eyelids, frantically wondering what was going on – what had happened to her son. After a long moment of struggling, she finally stopped, trying to gasp for breath… But found that she couldn't.

Then there was nothing. She could see nothing. She could hear nothing.

She could feel nothing. There was no blood rushing anywhere – neither through her head or through her veins. There was no cold stone floor beneath her. There was no cold air around her. There was no pounding in her chest.

As this thought sunk in, a gigantic tide of relief washed over her. Pressure lifted, sorrow gone.

If she could have, she would have smiled as she willingly embraced the sweet darkness, the comforting nothingness, around her.

She was free.

Her heart had stopped.

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Creatress-

Sorry for the long wait. I promise the next chapter will be out sooner – I already have half of it down. Please review.


	12. Heaven

Disclaimer - I don't own HP or anything related

Disclaimer - I don't own HP or anything related.

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Author's Note:

I should not have failed to update for such a long period of time. I realize that I left many hanging and most of you, my beloved readers, want to throw stones and Cruciatus curses at me, and you are justified in feeling this way. There is no excuse for my behaviour. … So, I'm not going to apologize. HA!

Luv

Creatress

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Circles Ch. 12

"_Do you believe in angels?"_

"_Those people with the long white robes and chicken wings who fly around one of your shoulders telling you to do the right thing?" Tom smirked. "No."_

_Ginny giggled. "Chicken wings, Tom?"_

_Tom inclined his head, but frowned shortly. "Or rooster wings," he muttered._

_Ginny looked at him with a taken aback expression from her place on the loveseat, which she was sprawled across. She was supposed to be reading from her history text, but had spent the last half an hour doodling in the margins and had drawn an angel – a very pretty angel, too. Tom was sitting in an armchair which had been placed a bit where her feet were at the end of her couch, going through an ancient book on telepathy, working as industriously as Ginny was playful. She wondered why he'd irritably bring up the rooster feathers she'd woken up with and been so worried about. She frowned, confusedly. "Tom?" she asked, cautiously._

_Tom looked up at her from his book and for a second, stared at her as if he'd never seen her before. "No, Ginevra, I do not believe in angels."_

_Ginny probably should have kept her mouth shut, and she knew that she should have, but her curiosity was worse than that of Pandora's. "Why not?"_

"_I've never seen one," Tom told her shortly, turning back to his book._

"_You only believe in what you see?" Ginny asked, quietly. Tom looked up at, an eyebrow propped up. "I mean… Isn't there something that you just… Believe in?"_

"_I believe in… Blood superiority," Tom finished with a wry, twisted smirk._

"_But how can you see blood superiority?" Ginny mused, and then jumped as Tom threw his heavy tomb down on the table before him with a loud bang. "Sorry," she quickly said._

"_You don't know what you're apologizing for," Tom hissed. He looked away from her and massaged his temple for a second before whipping around and fixing her with an even stare. "Let me ask you something – why do you believe in angels?"_

_Ginny stared at him blankly. "Umm… I don't know," she said, dumbly._

_Tom smirked, sardonically. "Well, then, Ginevra, I don't believe in angels. I don't know why, but I don't."_

_Ginny looked at him. "I thought you knew the answer to everything?" she asked._

_Tom scowled a bit. "Why is this so important to you?!" he snapped._

_Ginny cringed back into the couch a bit and shrugged. "When I grow up and die, I'm going to be angel in heaven," she stated, feeling as serious as her voice was flippant._

_Tom eyed her. "Is that what you think? That people die and become angels?"_

"_If they've been good," came her ready answer. "They die and become angels. Then they can look after their loved ones from heaven."_

"_And say a good person has no loved ones. Then what?" Tom asked, growing amusedly curious of Ginny's perception of the afterlife._

_Ginny shrugged and then grinned. "Maybe they can just use their angel wings – or chicken wings, Tom – to just fly around heaven. Flying's fun." Tom only smirked at her and looked away. She studied him and noticed that there was something tense in his form. "I think everyone has someone who loved them watching over them as angels," she said._

_Tom turned back to her and looked into her eyes. He suddenly looked tired. "There are no angels, Princess."_

"_When I die, I can be the first angel there ever was then," Ginny smiled. She turned back to her drawing and added a few details onto the wings. She glanced up at Tom to see him watching her carefully. "I'll watch over you," she told him. She turned back to her drawings then, and Tom frowned before turning back to his book. He couldn't concentrate after that, and she never saw him pausing in his work every now then to look to her with thoughts that confused even him._

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She was dead. She had in the Chamber.

_Awaken_.

Ginny didn't know what it was that woke her up. When she did, however, she suddenly realized that she _was_ indeed waking up and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

The dead did not wake up.

Wasn't that the definition of death after all? Not waking up?

Nevertheless, there was a voice at the back of her head – _Wake up_…

She opened her eyes, blinking away the grogginess. As she did, she suddenly became aware of her surroundings by the sense of feeling. Death was soft and silky and warm and… Comfortable. There was a pleasant breeze at the back of her head. She wondered what she would see when her vision would be cleared of blurry fatigue that was now plaguing her.

Red blurry streaks of her hair were the first things she saw, so she reached up to brush the strands out of her face. As soon as she did, however, another gust of that pleasant breeze blew them back in front of her face. She was not annoyed, like she would have thought she would have been. She actually smiled a little, as she brushed her hair back again, this time, firmly tucking the strands back behind her ear.

Ginny then became aware of her surroundings. She was in a room that was painted in a cream colour and trimmed with dark oak. The furniture was also made out of the dark wood, with cream, dark brown and black covers and sheets. The rumpled blanket she was under was made of beige coloured sheets with dark, black designs. It was all so classic and elegant.

Was this heaven?

As soon as that thought hit, something hard, but warm shifted against her back and another gust of air blew against the back of her head, this time a little stronger and accompanied by a snore that was so soft, it was almost a quiet sigh.

Ginny's eyes flew open in surprise, curiosity and a sudden panic. Who in the name of Merlin - ? She tried to turn around to see who it was, but found that her movement was limited. His arm was wound securely, yet gently, across her waist.

Gulping in fear and wondering what was going on, she took a deep breath to try to calm her nerves. She then brought her trembling hands to his arm and tried to gently pry it away from her waist, but the movement only made him tighten his hold. She gasped and stiffened when she felt him move against her back and froze, hoping desperately that whoever it was would go back to sleep.

She never was very lucky.

However, as he woke up, he unwound his arm from around her waist and she whipped around to see who she'd been sleeping beside. His identity didn't surprise her, but it did heighten her fear to a new level.

Heart pounding loudly in her chest, she scrambled to the edge of the bed and let out a bit of a shriek when she almost fell out in her haste to escape the sheets. She managed to get out of bed without falling, noticing out of the corner of her eye that her shriek had fully woken up Tom, who'd only been on the edge of sleep before. Once out of the bed, however, she turned and faced him, not knowing what else to do. She had no wand – that was for certain. The ankle-length chocolate brown nightgown she was wearing could never conceal one. Also, she did not recognize the room, so she did not know where she was. Obviously, something had happened in the Chamber –

Ginny stiffened, remembering her son. He'd been there, as well. What happened to him?

"Ginevra?"

Ginny started when she heard her name and stared at the man, who was just sitting up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Even though he was just waking up, his hair was barely tousled. His voice had been soft and confused. He hadn't said her name like that in a long time… She was dreaming. _Wake up_. She trembled a little, taking a step back.

Tom must have noticed her movement because he straightened. He frowned and Ginny felt his dark eyes roam over her, taking in her wide, frightened eyes and stiff form. A flash of something that looked almost like regret or hurt passed his eyes for half a second, but then he was stoic again. "Not this again," he muttered, quietly, as he got out of bed.

Ginny reacted to his movement by stumbling back a few more steps, stopping only when she hit the wall behind her. "Where am I?" she whispered, her voice fierce, despite its lack of volume.

Tom met her eyes evenly. "Ginevra, listen to me." He stepped around the bed, all the while followed by Ginny's eyes. "A few months ago, during the final battle, you were hit with a curse that messes up your mind."

"Don't lie to me," Ginny hissed.

"Once every few months, you go to sleep and live through a fictitious hell that you believe to be real when you wake up - "

_Awaken…_ A barely existent voice nagged at the back of her head.

"Stop it!" Ginny whispered, feeling tears start prickling at the back of her eyes. "I don't believe you. I won't believe you. Not anymore."

"You'll remember your real life in a while. Maybe a few minutes or a few hours, but it'll come back."

"Why are you doing this?!" she snapped. "Just tell me what's going on!"

Tom looked away for half a second, before turning back to her with a wry smile. "Of course, you don't believe me, Princess." He paused and frowned again. "Tell me what happened this time around. What did I do to you in last night's feature horror?"

"Stop talking," Ginny hissed, her eyes flashing.

Tom looked into her eyes, confidently. "It'll come back. You'll remember."

Ginny slowly shook her head, and allowed a disbelieving smile to appear on her lips. "Who the hell are you?"

Tom leaned against a poster on the bed, the stoic, but almost bored expression on his face implying that he'd done this before. "Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"_I am Lord Voldemort,_" Ginny spat, her eyes flashing.

Tom smirked, lazily. "That'll always come back to haunt me, won't it?" He paused, letting the smirk ebb away from his face as his expression became stoic again. "I am not him, Princess. I switched sides after you brought me out of the diary." Ginny snorted, disbelievingly. "I killed him."

Ginny stared at him. "For you to live, I must die. That was how the diary worked," she recited, almost sounding like she was quoting him.

Tom shook his head. "For Tom Marvolo Riddle, alias Lord Voldemort, to be free of the diary, you had to die. So, we didn't go about the traditional way of setting me free." He shrugged. "After I decided to switch sides, we, or rather, _you_ went to Dumbledore and told him. For some reason, he trusted me." He smirked, wryly. "It was either my affection for you, or the fact that I have an inability to play second to anyone, including my own self." The smirk disappeared again. "He had the Wizarding Pierre et Marie Curie make our Spiritus Potion stronger."

"The potion I drank to make you corporeal?" Ginny asked, growing curious, despite herself.

Tom nodded once. "Stronger, so that instead of a cupful to give me life for two hours, a droplet should have me going for a few days."

"What did that do to me?" Ginny interjected, frowning.

"Nothing," Tom said, flippantly. He turned away to look at the wall, not really seeing it and smirked again. "Severus took it to the Dark Lord and started feeding it to him." He turned back to her. "On the days that the Dark Lord was unavailable, you volunteered."

Ginny only looked at him, unable to respond.

Tom, sensing this, continued. "I returned to school as a transfer. Finished sixth and seventh years. Then went out to kill my older self."

"So you have no one taking the Spiritus for you?" Ginny questioned. "How are we both here?!"

Tom smirked, rather tiredly. "I told you, Sweetness. For Tom Marvolo Riddle, alias Lord Voldemort, to be free of the diary, you had to die. So to save you, we returned Lord Voldemort, alias Tom Riddle back to the diary." He inclined his head. "That's how I killed him."

Ginny only stared. "What?" she asked, weakly.

"The diary, the horcrux itself, would only have killed you if it had been empty. It doesn't know the difference between him and myself. We just took me out and put him in."

"Then what?" Ginny breathed, riveted.

"I took him down to the Chamber and gave Letaloculus a snack."

Ginny straightened and her eyes widened. "The basilisk is still down there?!" she shrieked.

The corner of Tom's lips quirked. "Be nice, Princess. Letaloculus can't help what he is. Cared for properly, he won't hurt a fly."

Ginny stared at him. "How can I trust you?" she asked.

Tom only looked at her, his expression becoming gentle. "You already trust me. You'll remember, Princess."

Ginny looked at him for a second before she started. "Tom," she said, quietly.

"Yes?" her husband asked.

Ginny shook her head. "No. Not you…"

"Oh, him," Tom smiled. It was there for two short seconds, but he actually allowed himself a rare smile before it morphed back to his usual smirk. "It's early. He'll sleep for a few more hours." Just as he said that, a loud wail sounded from the next room and Tom scowled, starting to walk toward the door. "Or maybe he'll wake up, all for the sole purpose of disobeying me."

Ginny fought to keep a smile of relief and amusement – only Tom's own special brand of witty humour can make such a situation the least bit entertaining – off her face. "Where is he?" she asked.

Tom looked at her, surprised. "_You_ want to get him?" Ginny only nodded, becoming serious again. "First door to your left," he said, turning back around.

Ginny only looked curiously at him, as she left, bracing herself for… For _something_. But Tom did nothing – only watched her with a slightly amused expression as she left their room.

It didn't take her long to find Tom Jr. She vaguely noted that she felt no surprise when she realized he was just a baby – not the teenager she'd raised at all. She walked into the nursery, which was done in pale yellows and blues, not fighting the wide smile that broke across her face as she half walked, half jogged to the crib. Her son was making a lot of noise, but he wasn't crying. Wailing and flailing his limbs, but not crying. Complaining was more like it. There weren't any tears in his large dark eyes. He hadn't cried much in that nightmare either. Ginny paid it no mind as she picked him up – only noting how light he felt. _Tom Riddle never cries_. It didn't matter which one he was – father or son, Sr. or Jr., second or third. Tom Riddle never cries.

Her son became silent, relaxing in her arms, and started playing grabbing at the strands of hair that had fallen in front of her shoulders, letting out adorable squeals of babyish laughter. Cooing softly to him, Ginny settled into a comfortable rocking chair near the crib and gently kissed his soft forehead, earning another gurgle of laughter from the boy in her arms.

Ginny had sat there for only a few minutes when Tom's gaze shifted from her face to something over her shoulder. Curiously, Ginny turned around, but wasn't surprised to find her husband walking into the room, now dressed in black slacks and a white shirt. He gave her a charming half smile before turning to his son and dangling his index finger over his face. As expected, the baby reached for it, only to have his father move it away a bit, out of his reach. Ginny watched, unable to fight a contented smile, as she watched her son bat at the air, trying to catch his father's finger.

It was obvious that Tom Jr. was becoming increasingly annoyed, much to his father's amusement. His little eyebrows were furrowed and his small, pink lips were pulled back in a displeased frown. Finally, the baby stopped batting at the air and let out an indignant shout, kicking fiercely (or as fiercely as a baby could kick) before continuing to pursue his father's finger. Tom, by now, decided to let the baby have his bottle… Or finger and let his son catch him.

Ginny almost laughed out loud when, as soon as the finger was in his grasp, her son brought it to his mouth.

"No - " Tom started to say with a frown, but was interrupted by another short, indignant wail from his son. "Fine, take it," he seceded, quickly, albeit grudgingly.

Ginny couldn't help it – she laughed out loud.

"What?" Tom frowned, warily at her.

"The big, bad Tom Marvolo Riddle defeated by…" Ginny stopped and her eyes widened a bit. She'd been about to finish with 'a baby' but thought better of it. Not only would it not have sat well with her husband, but she didn't want to merge him with Voldemort. It was obvious that they were two separate people. She thought of how to cover it up. "By… Tom…" An insanely random thought hit her. "It must be confusing between the two of you. If I call him, you turn around and what not."

Tom shrugged, a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "It wasn't my fault. You're the one who was insistent on naming him Tom."

Ginny looked at him, curiously. "What were your suggestions?" she asked. She suddenly wanted to know… She had to know what he would have done if he'd been with her at the time, instead of being away from her, like in that damned nightmare.

Tom shrugged. "Mot?" he asked. Ginny blinked before slowly raising her eyebrows. "I jest," he added, voice completely seriously. "I suggested…" His voice trailed off and he eyed her, a little hesitantly. "Tromedlov."

Ginny stared at him for a second, wondering if he was really that bad with names and where in the Wizarding World he got "Tromedlov" from before the trick in the name became clear to her. She frowned, clearly disapproving of the name.

Tom smirked when he saw her expression. "Fine, I'll be honest. I had no suggestions. I liked 'Tom.'" He paused and gave her a boyishly charming, crooked grin. "There is no better name in the world," he joked.

Ginny's heart melted and she smiled. "I always told you so."

Tom shrugged, looking completely serious. "And I know better than to disagree with you." Before Ginny had a chance to react to that statement, he started talking again. "It's not confusing. I know when you're talking to me." He frowned suddenly, looking even more serious. "On the off chance that you don't remember any time soon, we never _ever_ call him - " he cringed a little, as if he hated to say it. " – Tommy."

Ginny laughed. "Why?"

"No. Just, no. Anything but Tommy." Ginny opened her mouth, a rather malicious look in her eyes, but Tom cut her off again. "Or Tomtom. Or Tommy Boy. Or anything else along those lines."

Ginny looked at him and smiled slowly. "You have a nickname for him, don't you?"

Tom shrugged. "I use it once in a while." He paused. "I thought it was clever, because he's so much like me, but… Sometimes, it sounds like an egg."

Ginny blinked. "An egg?"

Tom changed the subject. "If you remembered him, he must have been in your dream, right?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ginny nodded. "He was almost seventeen." She shook her head in disbelief. "I can remember everything. His first words, when he first walked, his first day of school… I can't believe a nightmare can be so detailed."

Tom looked at her soberly. "It was a cruel curse."

Ginny glanced at the baby, who'd long since abandoned his father's finger and was now pulling at her hair again. She hadn't even felt him. It'd always stung when he did this in her nightmare. "He was in Slytherin, you know," she said, turning back to Tom.

Tom barely blinked. A smug smirk on his face, he reached out and gently brushed his thumb against his son's hair. "Of course. He's already so ambitious."

Ginny smiled. That was for certain, if their finger game was anything to go by. Like Tom, he had ambition and perseverance. He also had the same short temper and tendency of getting frustrated when things don't go his way. "He is."

Tom gave her a half smile. "He's going to be sorted into Slytherin. He's also going to be Prefect and then Head Boy."

Ginny laughed. "You're so sure."

"If he doesn't, he'll face my wrath," Tom said, wryly.

Ginny laughed again, vaguely noted that, once upon a dream, those words coming from Tom would have had her trembling in fear. They fell into a comfortable silence, and Ginny turned to look at the baby in her arms, who was still tugging at her hair. She didn't even remember what it felt like to hold him. He was so light; she could barely feel his weight in her lap. His dark hair was so soft against her arm, it felt like air.

"Do you remember anything yet?" Tom suddenly asked.

Ginny turned back to him and shook her head. "I wish I did." She frowned a little. "The nightmare is still so clear, though." She paused, and said, "I died."

Tom only looked at her, his expression unreadable.

"And then I woke up here," Ginny said, and smiled, just a little sadly.

Tom inclined his head in a short nod before he suddenly looked her over, his dark eyes running over her face. He suddenly reached out and cupped the side of her face, bringing his lips to hers in the most caring, most loving kiss he'd ever given her. It was tender and soft… And even as Ginny's eyes fluttered shut, she thought that it was so soft, it felt like air.

As this thought settled, she gasped and pulled away. _Wake up, just please wa_ Her son was so light. She couldn't feel her hair being pulled as he innocently tugged on the strands.

"Ginevra?" Tom frowned. He gently placed his hand over one of hers, watching his wife's eyes flicker down to it. "What is it?"

Ginny stared at his hand. "I can't feel you." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her son tug at her hair again, but instead of even the dullest sting, she felt nothing. "I can't feel either of you."

"What?" Tom asked, lowly, his expression once again unreadable.

_Wake up, it's too soon, you're not ready_ "I died," Ginny said, simply. Tom started to talk, but she interrupted him. "Then I woke up here." _Please wake up_ ran through her head in a beseeching, feminine voice and Ginny started. "Who is that?" she murmured, suddenly feeling out of place.

"Ginevra," Tom said, his voice even.

Ginny started and looked at him. For a moment, she simply stared at him before her the corner of lip quirked. The sad-almost smile betrayed what she was feeling at the moment. "It wasn't a nightmare. _This_… This is…"

Tom only looked at her, not saying a single word.

"It's all still going on," Ginny mused out loud.

"Don't do this. Stay with me," Tom suddenly said. "Stay with us."

Ginny looked at him and smiled, her eyes shining with something the man across her couldn't quite place. She then got up, completely forgetting that she had supposedly been holding their son in her lap. It didn't matter. She wasn't. She stepped up to Tom and kissed him full on the mouth. She couldn't feel him, but she thought she felt… _Something_. "Even in heaven, while playing my angel, you're still an evil jerk," she said, fondly, drawing out a wry chuckle from him.

"On that note, I'm glad you didn't name him Michael," he said, his lips, though she couldn't feel them, against her temple.

Ginny suddenly smiled widely though tears were forming in her eyes. "Tomlet." She had to giggle. "You've been calling him Tomlet."

Tom groaned a little, in mock irritation. "I told you it sounded like an egg… Omelet…"

Ginny let out a quiet snort of laughter as she leaned against him. "I can't stay now, can I?"

Tom didn't respond for a second. He finally told her, "It's your choice, Princess."

Ginny closed her eyes. "I'll come back."

"I know," Tom smirked. "You always do."

She gulped. "I don't want to leave," she whispered.

"Stay then."

xXxXxXx

Ginny blinked and there was light all around her. In front of her, behind her, above her… She was standing in and on a vast amount of white light. Tom and the nursery were gone.

She turned and saw a figure lying a few feet away from her. She almost started when she realized who it was. Bloodied dark green robes, flowing crimson hair, pale skin… Gods, she looked like she'd been run over numerous times by stampeding beasts. As she surveyed her dead body with a kind of peaceful calmness, she suddenly noticed that she wasn't breathing. She touched her neck, looking for a pulse and looked down at herself.

She was wearing a long, flowing, but simple white gown. Pretty much the opposite of the dead girl. She was suddenly relieved that she'd escaped the corpse. There was no way she was going back into that body or back where that girl used to live.

"You must go back." Ginny didn't recognize this person's voice. It was feminine and quite soft.

Go back? Back to that hell on Earth? "No. I won't," Ginny replied, looking at the body.

"But, you must."

Ginny turned to see who was speaking to her, a little disoriented.

"You know you must." The woman had pale skin, large dark eyes and long black hair. She was also dressed in white. She wasn't quite pretty, per se, but there was something about her that was… Comforting? Kind? Gentle? She didn't know why, but Ginny felt that she could trust this woman, who was looking at her with an expression of empathy. "I know it must be hard."

"I'm dead," Ginny said, the weight of the words finally settling in on her. She looked around. "Where am I?" she gasped, quietly. "What happened?"

"This isn't heaven or hell… It's a crossroads. You make a decision now. You can either go back into your body, back into that world of pain and suffering or move onto that heaven."

Ginny looked at her. "I should choose heaven, but… Those choices… That's too…" Something occurred to her. "Tom was in my heaven – he died in the Chamber when I twelve. But, my son's still on Earth."

The woman gulped and closed her eyes for a moment. "If you leave Earth now," she said, opening her eyes. "You will never see or hear… You will never have a chance to love your son and raise him." She met the young woman's eyes. Her next words were spoken in a strangled whisper, as if she was trying to keep her voice from breaking. "You can't understand what will happen if you leave him."

"What will happen to him?" Ginny asked. The woman looked away, but before she did, Ginny noticed her eyes looked glazed. "You know what will happen, don't you?" she asked, her voice rising. The woman didn't answer. "Who are you?!" she demanded.

"He needs his mother. Especially now. Leaving him with his father…" She shook her head. "I can only tell you what would happen if a woman chooses her end of suffering and leaving her child alone with no one instead choosing to stay with her son."

Ginny made up her mind to go back, but when she looked at her corpse, her resolve wavered considerably. "He wouldn't be alone…" she tried. "Hermione, the Order…"

"You've told him to do whatever he must to survive. How can your friends help if he'll never see them again?"

Ginny didn't answer. She knew the woman was right. Worst case scenarios kept manifesting in her mind of what would happen to Tom if she was to leave him now. But going back to that suffering? To that empty shell of a life she led? What would she be returning to? Murder, blood, suffering…

A gentle hand fell on her shoulder. "I know it must be hard," the woman said.

Ginny turned away from her corpse to face her. "How? How would you know?"

"I know," the woman assured her, squeezing her shoulder and gently grasping Ginny's arm with her other hand. "Yours isn't the happiest life to return to. But you mustn't let that stop you from doing what's right." She gestured around her. "You must think, Ginny… Can this truly be heaven if you are plagued every second with thoughts of your child and his lack of welfare?" She met the younger woman's eyes. "That is true pain. Knowing that he's suffering and being unable to help. Being forced to watch him grow into a monster. The guilt that you could have done something. There is no heaven if you leave Earth now."

Ginny felt the familiar weight in her chest and in her stomach – she'd carried this feeling around her whole life. At first, when she was younger and more naïve, she'd thought it was the pregnancy. After her son was born and it was still there, she'd learned to recognize it as the guilt, the sorrow, the never-ending worry of what tomorrow would bring… For the past few minutes, she'd been in paradise without it. Now, it was back. She had to return. "I can't watch him grow up without me," she said. "I'll go back."

The woman smiled and reached up with her other hand to rest in on top of Ginny's head in gentle, comforting pat. "You have my blessing. I'll watch over you. Both of you."

Ginny looked up at her. "Thank you," she said, but then hesitated. "Who are you?" The woman didn't answer, but her smile faltered the tiniest bit. Ginny studied her and took in her features. Her skin, her long black hair, her dark eyes… The way she seemed to know exactly what Ginny was feeling. "Oh my…" Ginny mumbled, and felt a disbelieving smile appear across her lips. Letting an instinct of camaraderie guide her and taken over by a feeling she couldn't quite place, she pulled the woman into hug. She felt her stiffen, the mere concept of a hug sadly foreign to her, before the brunette responded and wrapped her arms around the younger woman.

Though she was dead, Ginny felt the woman's breath against the side of her head. "I'm sorry," she heard her whisper.

"What for?" Ginny asked, hoarsely.

"I don't know, but I'm sorry. I am so sorry," the woman's voice cracked a bit.

Ginny suddenly giggled, all the while wondering what was wrong with her for doing such a thing at the moment. "What are you sorry for? You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Don't I?" the woman asked, quietly, her voice showing that she was surprised. She pulled away from the redhead and looked curiously at her.

"No, you don't." Ginny giggled again, before a thought settled on her and she felt her stomach ease again, leaving her completely comfortable. She smiled softly. "Neither do I."

The woman smiled and a moment passed in comfortable silence. The brunette looked at her with a smile, though it was rather sad. "You should get going."

Ginny nodded. She was suddenly very tired and felt her eyes closing. "Good bye…" She murmured. She saw her guardian's features becoming blurred as her eyelids drooped over her eyes. The light of her death was quickly overtaken by the blackness of life and she was in the Chamber once again.

xXxXx

A/N

I solemnly swear that the next chapter will have more TMRGW, Tom-LV angst, an angry Ginny, and more Tom A.R. and TARCS.

Question for you all: _That mysterious woman who convinced Ginny to go back to Earth and keep fighting – who is she and do you want to see more of her?_

After you review, you might want to swing by here (remove all the spaces after you copy and paste it into your URL box thingy):

http : / / forums . fictionalley . org/park/showthread . php?s&threadid137118&perpage20&highlight&pagenumber1

It's the S.S. Gin N Tonic. At Fiction Alley Park, which is a network of forums and message boards for all things HP, the SS GNT thread is the base for everything Tom and Ginny. Visit, talk, rave, rant, gush and squeal about Mr. and Mrs. Riddle and other things of Potterverse.

Alright, my loyal readers and reviewers. Until next time (next time being about two weeks at the maximum),

Yours only and truly,

The Creatress


	13. The Thin Line Between Tom and Voldemort

Disclaimer - I don't own HP or anything related.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Author's Note:

Hello, everybody!

This is the edited Chapter 13.

Luv

Creatress

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The Thin Line Between Tom and Voldemort

Circles Ch. 13

Voldemort wasn't pleased with what he saw before him. His son was weak, pathetic and defiant. At the moment, the boy was trying to glower angrily at him, but the glaze of tears passing over his eyes ruined the effect. The Dark Lord decided that if Tom cried, he would die. "Don't cry," he hissed. "If you show such weakness, I will make you wish you for death."

The boy smartened. He inhaled with a shudder and briefly pressed his sleeve against his eyes for a few seconds. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice quiet with resignation.

Voldemort scowled. "I want you to grow a spine!" he spat.

Tom lowered his wand the slightest bit, even as he tightened his grip on it. He couldn't bring himself to look at his mother – he didn't want to see her bruised, broken and bleeding on the chamber floor. But this thought invoked the mental image of her being thrown back under the force of the curse, screaming under the excruciating pain it caused.

And Tom hardened. His fear and sorrow gave way quickly to an icy cold fury. He looked up and met Voldemort's gaze. "The Cruciatus, then?" he asked, softly.

Voldemort inwardly smirked. Tom's eyes were dry and his irises were tinted with a blood red. "Do it," the Dark Lord ordered, evenly. He inwardly smirked when he saw the boy's wand pointed at him – so the boy _did_ have a spine.

"_Crucio!"_

Bursts of pain attacked the Dark Lord and Voldemort, gritting his teeth a little, let himself feel the curse for a few seconds so that he could determine how strong the child was. He noticed his son watching the curse take effect, a look of satisfaction etched on his young face that quickly disappeared when his father suddenly threw it off. The boy really did want him to suffer – that had been proven by the strength of the curse. The older man smirked a little. At least he was not completely useless. He looked up to see his son watching him with an even expression. Deciding to test the boy on a different level, he hissed, "_You enjoyed that, did you not_?"

Tom looked taken aback for a second before he scowled fiercely. "_Of course I did_!" he snapped. "_I __**hate**__ you_!"

Voldemort almost grinned. It felt good to hear the language of their ancestors come from his son's mouth. Tom didn't even realize he was doing it. "_It made you feel better, did it not?_" The Dark Lord's tone was calm, but his eyes were dancing maliciously.

Tom gulped. "_Yes_," he hissed, quietly. He hadn't calmed down though. He was itching to cast the curse on his father again.

"Come here," Voldemort said out loud.

Tom started, and actually took a step back, his heart racing when he saw his father scowl at the defiance. He started to panic a little – he'd been playing with him all this time, Tom thought with a gulp. He was just now starting to get angry.

"Now," the Dark Lord hissed. "I warned you about disobeying me."

Tom didn't move. He suddenly thought he heard a rustling from the other side of the hall, but didn't have a chance to turn around.

"_Imperio_." Voldemort smirked when Tom deflated under the imperious. He chuckled a little. "Come to Daddy."

Tom, his mind hazy and calm, heard the command and took a step forward. And another step. And one more. And –

_Stop_

Tom stopped moving. He didn't notice Voldemort frown at the other side of the room.

_Don't go to him_

_Come here_.

_Stay where you are_

A throb suddenly shot through Tom's head. One voice was giving him different instructions – what was he supposed to do?

_Going to him would be a stupid thing to do, wouldn't it?_

Tom blinked a little. "What…?" he murmured, barely audible.

_It would be a stupid thing to do. What do you think he'll do once you get there?_

Tom didn't have a chance to reply before the Dark Lord snapped, '_Now__, boy.'_

_Think. Would your mother tell you to go to him?_

They weren't the same voice… Tom frowned. Whoever this man was, he was different. He sounded just like the Dark Lord, but… He was different.

_Snap out of it_

Tom furrowed his eyebrows as he frowned deeper.

_Now, __Tom_

Tom had just snapped awake, his eyes wide when Voldemort scowled. "This is ridiculous," the older man muttered. He brandished his wand and Tom didn't have a chance to react before his feet were knocked off the floor and he whipped through the air to land at the Dark Lord's feet.

Wordlessly and inhumanly quickly, Voldemort reached down to grab Tom's left hand before tearing the sleeve of his uniform shirt in two from the cuff to the elbow. He vaguely noted his son's eyes widening in horror when he pressed the tip of his wand to the boy's forearm.

Tom's screams echoed through-out the Chamber as white hot pain coursed through his arm and reached the center of his mind and very existence.

"_No_!"

Voldemort, done with the mark, let the boy fall to floor before turning to Ginny.

Ginny was slowly, but surely getting up. "Don't… Tom…" she said. Her voice was as strong as ever though… She hadn't noticed the mark.

"Exactly what do you think you are doing, Ginevra?" Voldemort frowned, looking around to her and taking a few steps in her direction. "I thought you would have passed out by now."

Ginny had to lean against the wall for support, but she was standing. "I take back everything that I said before," she stated. Through her hazy, blood-stained gaze, she caught her son's eyes and smiled a little. "I was wrong. I know it may seem confusing to you, because you don't know the whole story." She inhaled a little. "That - " She jerked her head toward the Dark Lord for a second. "Is _not_ your father. And you are _not_ going with him."

Tom, the exhilaration he felt at his mother being okay making him forget the mark, tore his attention away from his arm and looked confused. Voldemort just looked exasperated. "Not this again, Ginevra," he muttered. "I thought we've already been through this."

Ginny had to smile a bit. "Everybody makes mistakes," she quipped. "So I did. But now I know the truth. You are not him."

"So I suppose we'll be doing this the hard way, my _darling_ wife," Voldemort hissed. He raised his wand, but his son got to it first.

"_Expelliarmus_!"

"Tom!" Ginny gasped.

The Dark Lord's wand flew straight into Tom's outstretched hand. "Well, that was a tad… Easy," the teenager muttered, warily. He looked up at Voldemort suspiciously.

Voldemort smirked at Tom's uneasiness. The boy had a right to be afraid. Wordlessly, he raised his hand and only flicked his wrist to send his son flying back meters under an unseen hit. Tom hit the floor just about a meter away from Ginny who quickly rushed to his side.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked, frantically, kneeling beside him.

Groaning, Tom massaged the back of his head that had hit the floor. "How did he do that?" he muttered, sitting up a little. Panic was starting to throb painfully in his gut as he looked across the room at Voldemort. However, he couldn't help but be awed by the fact that someone had just sent him sprawling without a wand.

Ginny caught the look of wonder on Tom's face and frowned. "Give me your wand," she said quietly. When, as expected, Tom looked up at her in shock and started to protest, she quickly silenced him. "I know how to beat him. You don't. You must get upstairs and help the others. They're in trouble." He started to say something, but she interrupted him. "_Please_." Tom said nothing, but he let her take his wand from him. "Go," she said.

Tom got up. "I don't want to leave you," he muttered. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the Dark Lord, who was watching them amusedly.

"Go," Ginny repeated, her voice hushed. "See that doorway to the right?" She watched as Tom's gaze flickered to the arched opening. "Go, and then turn left at the first split. It'll take you to the girls' bathroom." Tom nodded. "Good bye." She kissed his temple. And then he was gone.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Tom was jogging out of the main chamber, but as soon as he passed through the doorway, he broke out into a full sprint. He heard nothing behind him – his mother and the Dark Lord apparently had done nothing yet. Soon, his feet pounding against the floor were the only sounds ringing around him. They came to an abrupt halt, when Tom stopped when he met a brick wall. He frowned, his eyes travelling around the place. The only way to go was up.

Tom looked around, wondering what he should do. There was no way to climb up. He didn't have his broom, or a wand. How was he supposed to…?

"_My Lord_?"

Tom stiffened as soon as he heard the voice. First of all, who was it speaking to? It was an inhuman hiss… As soon as this thought settled, it spoke again from somewhere behind him.

"_My Lord_."

Acting on purely instinct, Tom turned his head toward the voice a little. He couldn't see who it was – the speaker was somewhere he couldn't see. "_Yes_?" There was a pause before

"_Is something wrong, Master_?"

Tom had to think for a second. Who the hell was this? Why was this person being so respectful toward him? He gulped a little. "_I need to figure out a way to get up there,_" he said, letting his eyes travel to the top of the upward tunnel. There was the tiniest spot of light coming in.

"_Up where, my Lord_?"

Tom frowned. "_There_," he repeated. He turned a bit and looked back into the darkness, where the voice was coming from.

"_You know I am blinded, my Lord_," the hiss came.

Tom raised an eyebrow. This person was blinded… Did he think Tom was the Dark Lord? Hoping this was so, Tom fully turned toward the darkness. "_Up to the opening of the Chamber_."

"_Why had you not summoned me earlier? I shall carry you up there, Master._"

Tom frowned, growing a little nervous. "_Come here_," he ordered.

And out of the darkness erupted a giant, majestic serpent.

xXxXxXx

"What are you going to do, Princess?" Voldemort smirked, eyeing her. "I'm impressed, I'll give you that. I was expecting you to lay there and not wake up for a good few hours."

Ginny inwardly scowled. He didn't even know that he'd killed her. Truth be told, she had no idea as to what she was going to do. "We have to talk," she said, evenly. Bravely, she started walking toward him.

"Talk," Voldemort repeated. He looked quite amused at this point. "Now isn't a time for one our conversations, my sweet." Nevertheless, he reached out and stroked her cheek when she was close enough. "Did you forget that there's a battle going on?"

Fooling the Dark Lord would be a challenge for most people, but Ginny Riddle had been taught from the master himself. It was easy to kiss his finger tips as they passed over her lips. "You promised that you wouldn't hurt me if we do what you wanted," she stated.

"No, I promised I wouldn't kill him," Voldemort reminded her. He chucked her chin up so that she would look at him before he gave her a look of mock concern. "Did my cruciatus hurt you, sweet?" She didn't reply, and he shook his head. "You do know I'll hurt you again. Not because I want to. You sent him out when you knew I had things to discuss with him." His fingers had travelled into her hair and now he grabbed a fistful, making her gasp as he pulled against her injured scalp. "You will be punished again, Princess. Rest assured, it will be more than a light spanking."

Ginny bit her lip before gently grasping his wrist. "Please stop that," she muttered, invoking a low chuckle from him. However, his grip on her hair loosened. "I sent him out. Why aren't you angry?"

"There's no way he'll get up to the opening," Voldemort muttered. He smirked at the stricken expression on Ginny's face. "So, my Lady. What did you want to talk about?"

xXxXxXx

Tom gulped, staring at the snake. He was standing in the girls' washroom and the snake had its enormous head poking out of the opening in the ground. He had spoken to the snake. He had ordered the closed entrance and exit to the Chamber to open. He had… He had…

He had left his mother alone.

Tom eyed the serpent. It was a majestic creature. Black and gray shimmering scales. Its eyes, however, looked sickly. He could swear there was dried black blood and crusted sickly yellow puss over it. He couldn't help but wonder why its eyes were ruined and he suddenly felt sorry for it. _Basilisk_. Which book had he read about it in? He suddenly found himself wondering.

"_Do something for me_?" he asked.

"_Anything, my Lord_," the serpent answered.

Tom winced a little and was grateful that the snake couldn't see. He felt a tad more than a little uncomfortable pretending to be Lord Voldemort… Especially because he was doing such a great job of it. He tried to tell himself that it wasn't because they were the same – it just seemed that Riddles were naturally born actors. He suddenly thought of his mother and smiled. Even the ones that married into the family. He had to help her. Somehow. In any way possible. "_Do you swear to do this_?"

"_Yes, Master_."

Tom nodded. "_There is a man in the main chamber…_" He was ordering a giant serpent to go out and commit murder. Against his own father. And yet, none of this settled on him. He was completely calm. After telling the snake that it was to kill the man, no matter what the man said to it, and no matter what, pose absolutely no threat to the woman, he bid the serpent go and watched it disappear into the chamber entrance.

As soon as it closed up, he turned and left the washroom. He hadn't taken a few steps down the hall before something caught his eye. One of the classroom doors was open…

xXxXx

Charlotte was just starting to wake out of the stunner when a loud bang started her completely from her dizziness. Vaguely aware of her mother holding her, she looked up toward the doorway to see her best friend step into the room. "Tom," she murmured. But he was looking at her – his icy blue gaze was fixed on the other side of the room. She weakly followed his gaze. The man Tom was staring at had his eyes on her. He was staring at her as if she'd… As if…

"You were the one who brought me to him," Tom suddenly scowled, taking in the Death Eater garb and the skeletal mask in his hand.

Severus glanced at him, almost dismissing him as unimportant. "What happened to the Dark Lord?" he muttered.

Tom didn't answer. "Who the hell are you?" he asked, instead, his tone vicious.

"Tom." Hermione finally spoke up. Her godson's gaze transferred to her, but Severus and Charlotte continued to eye each other with matching gazes of curiousity. "Severus," she said. The Potions Master still didn't look at her. "You have to choose. _Now_."

"Choose what?" Tom asked, looking between them. He caught the indiscernible look on Severus' face. He suddenly remembered looking into his eyes and thinking of Charlotte. Realization hit him all at once and he turned to his godmother to stare at her in shock.

Charlotte realized that something was going on, but she just couldn't… That curse had hit her hard and her head ached badly. She wanted to ask what was happening, but all she managed was a soft groan before she raised a hand to her head. Gods, her head hurt…

"Severus."

Severus, unable to take his eyes off the girl in Hermione's arms, nodded. He wordlessly dropped the mask and was gone out of the room to join the battle before it hit the floor.

xXxXxXx

"I hate you."

Voldemort had to chuckle a little. "Ginevra, Ginevra, Ginevra…" he muttered. "That's what makes it so much fun – having my little Gryffindor lie to herself. You know, before you came along, I thought all forms of love were useless. But it got you here, didn't it?"

Ginny quirked a shoulder. "I love you, too." She met his gaze. "You don't love me."

Voldemort looked completely serious. "No. I don't."

"You never did."

"Never."

"But your horcrux?"

Voldemort shook his head. "Did you know that a rattlesnake cannot hear its own rattle? Cut it in half, throw some magic on it and both can survive, but where's the sense in expecting one half to do what it couldn't when it was whole?"

Ginny smiled. "Throw some more magic on it?"

Voldemort shook his head. "You never give up, do you?" Ginny only shook her head. "What now, Ginevra?"

Ginny couldn't think of a reply. She's didn't have to because there was suddenly a clatter, and the king of all serpents burst into the Chamber.

xXxXxXxXx

There's the second last chapter! I swear the last one will be out before Saturday – Merope's in it!! How will this end? How will Lord Voldemort react when he figures out what his son did? Oh, Tom, Daddy's not going to be happy… And you just know Tom M. Riddle's watching all of this from the other side – how did he react? What's Snape planning? What about Charlotte? What'll happen to Ginny? I'll stop asking random questions when you -

REVIEW!!

luv,

Creatress


	14. The NeverEnding Line

Disclaimer – I own nothing of the HP books or whatever associated, blada blada blada, you know the drill…

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Author's Note:

This has been long overdue. It was just so hard to get this chapter out – you'll see why when you read it. I just finished typing this up, and I feel more than a tad depressed.

But I also feel a little excited…

See why…

Luv

Creatress

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Circles

Chapter 14 - A Never-Ending Line

'_Lelocules, what are you doing?!_' Voldemort demanded.

Ginny could tell from the tone and clipped shortness of the hisses that something was wrong. She didn't understand parseltongue, but the atmosphere between master and creature was something like she'd never seen before. Unless it was out hunting, the basilisk had always moved with slow grace. Now it was winding quickly, almost drunkenly around the Chamber, trying to locate them.

Lelocules was silent as it lunged toward them.

Ginny didn't have time to scream before Voldemort took her hand and moved both of them out of the way, escaping the basilisk just in time. "What is wrong with him?!" Ginny demanded, following the creature with her eyes.

Voldemort scowled. '_Lelocules_!' he hissed, loudly. '_I am your master! Stay straight!_'

Lelocules straightened, but only long enough to answer shortly, its hisses coming out in shallow, concentrated breaths, its voice as focused and undeterred as its mind. _'You are not my master. My Lord is not here. He instructs me to kill you. I shall do his bidding.'_ Lelocules wasn't listening to Voldemort, but it was obvious that the snake had heard its former master. It used the sound of the hisses to verify his location, and, once again, lunged.

A wave of disbelief at what his son had done passed over the Dark Lord, but he didn't have time to properly react to it. The basilisk was coming at him again. Voldemort cursed softly before firing a flaming jinx at the snake.

Though he temporarily slowed Lelocules now, the move made the situation that much worse. All this time, Lelocules had been acting on orders. Now it was just an injured animal. An injured animal was sure to lash out at whoever harmed it and anyone around them; orders from its Master be damned. The basilisk stood erect, writhing from the searing heat of the attack, before straightening and lashing out.

The Dark Lord tried to hit his old friend with a stunning spell in an effort to render him immobile, but the fervently writhing snake luckily whipped out of the way at the last second.

xXxXxXx

"I…" Hermione started to get up. "I have to go help them fight."

"No."

Hermione and Charlotte looked up in surprise at Tom. He was staring into an ashen fireplace at the other side of the room, expression unreadable. "No," he repeated. He turned to Hermione. "Go get your… Friend… Back. He's going to need his mask." When Hermione only stared at him in confusion, Tom gave her an earnest, but impatient look. "Bring him back before he joins the battle! Go!"

Hermione scrambled up. She lightly squeezed her daughter's hand and kissed the girl's forehead before moving. As she passed him, she reached out to touch her godson's arm, but his icy stoniness stopped her from doing much else. A part of her wanted to talk to him now, but there was a battle going on. She firmly told herself that there would be time later, and she shot Charlotte a significant look before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

Charlotte was sitting with her legs tucked beneath her and her head against the wall in the corner of the room. She looked cautiously toward Tom. Her mind fighting off the curse she'd been hit with, her eyes widened and she straightened, looking him over. "You're okay!" she exclaimed, breathlessly. She got up, her legs shaking under her weight. "What happened?"

All of a sudden, Tom was in front of her, supporting her as he gently pushed her back into a sitting position. "I just ordered a snake to kill my father," he told her. His grasp on her hand was firm and steady. He sounded disbelieving to his own ears.

Charlotte stared at him for a second. "You can speak to snakes," she finally said.

Tom seemed to snap out of a daze and he met her eyes. "Yes," he responded. There was a pregnant silence for a second. "Does that bother you?"

Charlotte didn't respond right away, but when she finally did, her best friend could find no indication that she was lying. "No," she said, giving him a small smile. "You'll always be you, no matter how many languages you speak."

The statement caught him off guard, and Tom laughed, and dry as it was, the girl across him took some comfort in the fact that it was a laugh nonetheless. "It doesn't bother you that I ordered a snake to kill my own father?" Tom asked.

Charlotte stopped short. "You were in danger, right?" she asked after a second.

Tom frowned. "No."

Charlotte bit at her lip for a second. "You had no other choice."

Tom looked away, silent as he pondered this. "I… Had other choices. But you probably wouldn't have liked them very much."

Charlotte gulped. "What were they?"

As soon as Charlotte asked, Tom suddenly remembered the white hot pain that engulfed him, spreading all over his body… Starting at one point. "Damn," Tom muttered, flexing his left arm. "Damn."

Charlotte, knowing something was horribly, horribly wrong, followed Tom's gaze to his left hand, which was entwined in her hands. Praying that what she suspected wasn't so, she let her fingers move up to the cuffs of his shirt. Before she could undo the buttons, she realized that the sleeve was ripped. She followed the tear, her heart pounding faster and faster, as she neared his forearm. Though she'd been expecting it, the Dark Mark made her start and flinch away a little. "You didn't ask for it," she suddenly said. She looked up at him, her eyes troubled. "Did it hurt?"

Tom smirked. "No," he lied.

As expected, Charlotte saw through him. But before she could move to hug him, the door burst open and Hermione walked in, followed closely by an impatient-looking Severus.

"What?" Severus demanded, keeping his eyes firmly on Tom.

Tom's face broke into a scowl before he got up and turned to face the other Slytherin. "Put your mask on. Go back out there, and tell your little friends that the Dark Lord is ordering everyone to retreat."

Severus gave the younger man an incredulous look. "I can't - "

"I know they listen to you, and I know you were the one who brought me to him!" Tom snapped.

Severus stopped short when he suddenly realized that the younger man's sky blue eyes were starting to darken considerably. He narrowed his eyes. "What the hell happened down there?" he asked, his voice growing soft.

Tom ignored him. _Verbero_ echoed through the dark corners of his mind, and he frowned, trying to figure out what it meant. _Verbero_ a voice whispered. Suddenly, he realized that Snape had spoken and he brought himself back to reality. "After you dropped me off, you stayed there," Tom continued. "The Dark Lord has made a change in plans, and now everyone is to be out of the castle within two minutes. Take no hostages. Then you alone will return here at 10:00pm tonight."

Severus hesitated.

Tom felt himself grow angrier. _Verbero_ the voice hissed, more insistently. Tom suddenly recognized the voice as the one that told him not to obey Voldemort under the Imperius. He had been helpful then, so… The word came out an inaudible hiss. '_Verbero_.'

Severus suddenly doubled over, clutching his left arm.

Tom froze, almost taking a step back. He forced down the vile that rose at the back of his throat. 'Did I do that?' "Go," he repeated.

Severus looked at him in shock. Hermione had her hands clasped over her mouth. Tom did not want to turn around to see how Charlotte was reacting.

Tom swallowed inwardly. "I'm not going to ask you again, Snape," he said, his voice even. '_Verbero_.'

Severus let out a soft curse beneath his breath, trying to hide his pain, before wandlessly summoning his mask to him from where it had fallen. He pulled it on before wordlessly leaving the room.

The two minutes were filled with tense, thick silence. Tom knew that his godmother was horrified – all he'd have to do was turn and look at her, and he'd probably see it in her eyes. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from the empty, gray fireplace. Two feet behind him, Charlotte was still and silent as stone.

Tom forced himself to ignore both women and lose himself in his plans. He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, but little by little, the pieces were falling into place. Six horcruxes plus one man. Two horcruxes dead, one man about to die. Four chances of the Dark Lord coming back. Any one of his followers, any one of them who knew where these four pieces were, could simply pick one up and bring him back.

How would he stop them? How _could_ he stop them?

He couldn't simply order the Death Eaters to leave the Horcruxes be.

_Couldn't he?_

xXxXxXx

Lelocules was starting to destroy the Chamber. Carvings, pillars and statues crumbled and fell when he slammed into them in panicked in its blindness and pain.

Ginny found herself staying close to her husband as they weaved around, dodging the falling stones and the snake itself. Their spells either kept missing or just didn't last long.

Suddenly, Voldemort pushed Ginny into an alcove, sliding in after her, pressing close to her in the small space. "Don't move. Don't breathe," he hissed, softly, following the giant beast with his red-tinted eyes. "It can't hear us over the fallings stones, but it might still pick us up." Then he turned to the woman he was pressed against and smirked twistedly. "Are you proud of your son, my Lady? Look what he has done."

It took Ginny a moment to understand. Slowly, she turned to look at the basilisk and inhaled sharply. "No," she quickly denied. "Tom couldn't - "

"Why not?!" Voldemort snapped. "He can speak the language. Lelocules _told_ me of his orders. He meant to murder me."

Ginny swallowed, but her temper flared. "Like father, like son," she recited, almost flippantly. She looked into his eyes challengingly.

Voldemort reacted quite differently than the redhead was expecting. He actually smirked down at her. "We'll see," he muttered softly. Suddenly, he reached out and gently trailed her jaw with the back of his fingers.

"What are you doing?" Ginny whispered, following his hand out of the corner of her eye.

Voldemort smirked before leaning forward and biting her lower lip in a twisted version of a kiss. His hand slid down her throat to the base of her neck. Suddenly, he pulled out her locket. "Let's leave this out for a while," he said, almost nonchalantly.

"What are you doing?" Ginny said, again.

"We'll just let Lelocules tire himself out," Voldemort replied, smoothly. He looked her over. "What shall I do with you while I wait?"

Ginny pressed her back against the wall behind her, trying to put as much room between her and the Dark Lord as possible. "Don't touch me."

Voldemort chuckled. "Dear, my Lady," he muttered, moving his hand back up to cup her jaw. "What will I do with you when all of this is done?" He suddenly pushed her against the wall, holding her still with his own body. "If I kept him alive, how much could I barter out of you? What would you do to keep me from engulfing him darkness? What would you give up to keep me from hurting your little boy?" He moved his lips to her ear, and let go of her jaw to bury his hand in her hair. "What would you do for me then? How far could I push you?"

Ginny's face twisted a little and her lower lip trembled against Voldemort's shoulder. "You are _disgusting_," she spat. Suddenly, the Dark Lord tore out a whole lock of her hair and Ginny screamed against the sudden stinging pain.

Her scream was loud enough to catch the basilisk's attention.

Lelocules shot toward the sound, and crashed its massive head against wall their alcove was in. The snake and the falling stone bricks caught the Dark Lord and his wife off guard.

Voldemort reacted first. His wand was in his hand. He raised it, and got one syllable out. The snake heard the first "Av." At "ra," it knew where its old master was. Before the Dark Lord got to the second word of the deadly curse, Lelocules struck.

Ginny screamed and stumbled back a few steps when Lelocules snapped forward and buried its upper fangs into Voldemort's chest.

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"It's been two minutes," Tom suddenly said. He didn't turn to look at his godmother, but his words were obviously directed at her. "Go and take care of any injured students."

Hermione stared at him for half a second before robotically leaving the room, too stunned to do much else. When the door closed behind her, Tom flicked his wand at it, securely locking it, before turning around to face Charlotte.

Charlotte was still sitting against the wall. She looked up at him with an expectant expression, the kind she always gave him whenever he'd try to explain his way out of facing her wrath after lying to her, or cheating on a game, or upsetting her…

"I'm leaving," Tom said, looking down at her. "If need be, I'll take the damn seventh year tests a year early, but I can't stay here anymore. I have to find his horcruxes. I can't let the Order go by it themselves anymore. Everything's changed." He paused, before continuing, his controlled voice almost shaking. "And I'm going to go about it in a way that you will _hate_ me for."

Charlotte was quiet. Instead of saying anything, she held out a hand.

Tom looked down at her and steeled himself, giving her the coldest expression he could muster. "I can't let you convince me to stay," he said, harshly.

"I know." Charlotte's response threw Tom and he looked at her in shock. "I can never even get you to change your mind about the littlest things, Tom," she said, smiling, a little tearful. "But I can come with you."

Tom started to tell her not to be stupid, to stay put at the castle. But the words didn't come out. Instead, he found himself reaching out and taking the hand she offered before he pulled her up off the ground and into his arms.

xXxXxXx

They all stood motionless for a second. Suddenly, a green light erupted from the Dark Lord's wand and hit the basilisk. Lelocules was limp when Voldemort pushed the fangs out of his chest and let the snake's giant head drop to the ground. But even as he did this, it was obvious it was too late. The unimaginable amount of blood that was pouring out of his wounds was already stained black with the venom. Venom that was no doubt in his lungs, his heart, his _veins_… He collapsed to his knees before falling forward.

A force of something more powerful than magic and matter hit Ginny like a ton of bricks. She took one step forward before crumbling to her knees beside him, suddenly blinded by an onslaught of tears as memories – real and solid as if she had travelled back in time – tore through her mind and heart, leaving her as hurt and weak as her husband was a foot away from her.

Ginny's best friend, her boyfriend killed here by venom. By his own monster. By his own goals. And now, he was dying again. In the exact same way. By his own monster; by his own goals. It was all happening again.

Voldemort must have realized this, as well. "In circles lay my weakness," he recited. He looked up at Ginny and reached up, grasping her weakly by her neck and pulling her toward him. His crimson eyes were bloodshot now, and they were the last things Ginny saw before she kissed him. The Dark Lord was having trouble breathing now, and even though there should have been a million things running through his head, his mind was blank. He held the shuddering, sobbing form of his wife in his arms and suddenly thought to himself of what he'd just done by tearing her hair. Hurting her had led to this…

The Dark Lord finally turned to Ginny, and held her shoulders. He could barely hold her; his grip was so lose. "Ginevra," he said, shaking her lightly. She raised her own blood-shot, tear-filled eyes to her own. In an uncharacteristic move, he wiped away a drop that fell from her lashes. "I can't let you go."

Ginny didn't reply right away. Her eyes fluttered in confusion. "It hurts," she finally whispered, laying her forehead against his shoulder. "Why can't I differentiate between the two of you? I can't... It hurts so much…" Her voice cracked on a sob. Something suddenly occurred to her. "Why are you so calm?"

Voldemort pressed his lips against Ginny's. The last time he'd kiss her. At least, like this. With his last breath, he told her, "Wait for me, my Lady."

Ginny didn't have the time to wonder what he meant. She felt her husband's life leave the body in her arms. She suddenly felt her locket grow hot. Hellishly hot. The chain began to move and contract around her neck. Voldemort's last words came back to her. 'Wait for me, my Lady.' What did he mean?

Suddenly, the locket was choking her. The air cut off from her lungs, Ginny gasped and fell forward against her husband's still chest. Her vision was starting to blur. Her world was starting to darken.

Once again, Ginny fell into the blinding whiteness of death. This time, she welcomed it.

This time, Ginny knew she would wake up in Tom's arms. This time, she would stay there.

The End

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A/n

And that is the "end" of Circles… But if the name of this last chapter was any hint – a sequel will be posted soon.

There's one thing I need to talk about: Severus. A few people asked why I made him go good again. It made perfect sense for him to be evil; why did seeing his daughter make him do a flip? … I'll admit it – I was planning on keeping him evil. But rereading this fic, I realized that there were, like, zero good fathers. Arthur and family left Ginny after her pregnancy, and he only showed up off-stage for a few lines. I didn't want to portray this whole group as a bunch of jerks in this fic. _Someone_ had to do a 180 and, at least, _try_ at the father role. So, I chose Severus. … But he'll still be a jerk. And don't worry, I haven't forgiven him for what he did to Charlotte and Hermione, so, here's hoping that he will suffer greatly at the hands of his son-in-law in Arcs.

A random fact I'd like to throw out you at this point is that, in the last few months, something that has really caught my interest is: Necromancy.

I've been writing my own story (nothing HP-related - I actually hope to get this published in the next two years!) and it's about religion. Whilst researching a few things in paganism about necromancy and bringing people back from the dead, this Plot Basilisk (trust me, it is no bunny…) attacked me.

So the plotline of Arcs was kind of given away in the chapter, but here it is again:

_- After some necromancy and getting his father's approval, Tom III will now be taking Voldemort's place at the head of the Dark Side, in an attempt to manipulate the Death Eaters into showing him where the horcruxes are. So that he could properly destroy them… But then Tom II tells his son what he could do to bring him back, using the horcruxes._

_- Ginny's with her beloved best friend/husband, Tom, in heaven. But living with him isn't as heavenly as it seemed… Now, she'll have to (once again) deal with some of his more negative traits._

_- Tom and Ginny's relationship in heaven has its ups and downs, but then they start noticing something… Something's wrong with Ginny's death. Her spirit seems to be fading._

_- Seriously, can a seventeen-year-old lead an army of dark, murderous wizards without touching the darkness himself? How could his mother save him when she herself is fading away in heaven? What could his father do?_

So that's Arcs… Coming soon.

Finally, last but not least, I would like to thank all my reviewers. There are too many regulars to name, one by one, but I honestly to God, love you all. You made me keep going. Thank you.

Luv

Urz

Creatress


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